Acts of Unkindness
by otherhawk
Summary: Pre-movie. After Danny is seriously injured on a job, Rusty will do whatever it takes to keep him safe and get him the medical attention he needs. Only this time, whatever it takes might just be more than he can give. This is slash, btw.
1. You show me yours

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Ocean's 11  
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**A/N 1: Thanks to InSilva for prereading and the title**

**A/N2: Regular readers may be asking 'Why would she start writing a new story when she still has several to finish'. Well, you could be right. But in my defence, this is both creepy _and _unpleasant. Wait...I mean I already have most of the next two chapters finished**

**A/N3: Also, this is slash. And there is coerced sex herein._  
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><p><em>The window was open, but even now it was dark, the air blowing in was hot and dusty. As far as Rusty was concerned it was past time to leave this country behind and go home. <em>

"_We're going to need to block off that second exit," he said suddenly. _

_Danny paused and then carefully stopped what he was doing and looked up at him, eyebrow raised. "Really?" he asked. "What, am I boring you or something?" _

"_Sorry," Rusty said unrepentantly. "Sometimes stuff just pops into my head. I can't help it." _

"_Uh huh." Danny's eyes narrowed. His hands were warm around Rusty's hips. (Danny was always warm.) "Let's see if we can't get your mind where it's supposed to be." He leaned forwards again and blew gently and the soft sensation swept tantalizingly across Rusty's groin. His hips bucked forwards helplessly. _

"_We're still gonna have to..." he gasped, then he broke off into a low, needy moan as Danny descended on him, his mouth busy in indescribable ways. _

"_Leave tomorrow, till tomorrow," Danny said a moment later, and Rusty nodded dizzily, happy to agree with anything right now. "I want you right here and now."_

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><p>It would be easier if it had been something to do with the second exit, Rusty thought bitterly. Then, at least, there would be something he could blame. Something he could point at and say 'That was what we did wrong'. But the truth was, he didn't know what had happened. Just that the result had been catastrophic.<p>

Danny was a deadweight on his shoulder. He cursed his choice of words, his hand squeezing round Danny's leg convulsively. Not dead, not nearly dead. Not going to die. He'd managed to slow the bleeding at least, but there was too much of Danny's blood covering both of them. It was all he could smell, and with each breath he felt like screaming. The bullet had hit Danny in the back. Rusty shouldn't have moved him at all, he knew, but if they were caught now there would be a whole hail of bullets coming their way without the benefit of a trial.

He stopped to catch his breath somewhere in the warren of dark alleyways. He didn't dare put Danny down. He didn't want to risk moving him anymore than he had to. But eyes stinging, he reached up and pressed his hand to Danny's cheek. It was cold in the muggy night's air. He could hear Danny breathing, harsh, laboured, unsteady... Rusty sank his teeth deep into his lip. "I was thinking," he said unsteadily. "When we get home. Maybe I should move into your room with you. That would be nice, right? And we could figure out what to do with my room...the other room. What do you think, hot tub? Wet bar?" He paused a second, then nodded. "Right. Both. That's a great idea."

A siren sounded somewhere too close, and made him jump. He had to get them off the streets. He had to get Danny help.

Knowing where to find a discreet doctor was always part of Rusty's basic reconnaissance of any new city that they operated in. Franco had given him a name and address. Dr Hans - no last name. It wasn't far, at least.

Of course, so far Franco's information had been careless at best, he thought grimly, as he gripped Danny a little tighter and headed off down the darkest alley. If he got there and found the address was actually a delicatessen...

Franco was dead now. He felt guilty.

He wished Danny would wake up. He wished Danny would give some sign he was _alive. _

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><p>The address led him to a two storey house on a residential street, walled off and apart from its neighbours. The garden was overgrown with tangled weeds and gnarled trees, and the front door was flanked by two weatherworn stone lions. There was a single dim light in one of the upstairs windows.<p>

"Looks like a great setting for a horror movie," he murmured.

Danny didn't respond. Not even in Rusty's head.

With a nod, he staggered up the path towards the front door. His back ached almost as much as his heart. "Not like we have much choice."

There were people looking for them. Soldiers, cops, criminals...the only difference in who caught them would be how quickly they died.

There was an old-fashioned brass door knocker. With a quick, awkward glance over his shoulder, he rapped it three times. The echoes went on for a long time, and he was back looking over his shoulder again.

He heard footsteps coming towards the door and then a long silence. Come on, come on, come on. He got the sense that someone was looking at him through the peephole. "Please," he called out, soft and urgent. "I need help. My friend is hurt. Please."

The silence considered him and finally the door swung open and he was looking into a lit hallway, a tall, round man silhouetted in the doorway. "Come in, come in," he said in perfect English, a noticeable trace of a German accent shaded with just a little local colour. "Quickly, please."

"Dr Hans?" Rusty asked quickly, stumbling inside.

"Yes, yes," Hans agreed, putting his hand on Rusty's back and ushering him inside. "My surgery is set up in the basement. We must get your friend seen to quickly. Did anyone see you come in here?"

"No," he said definitely. "No, we weren't followed. No one knows we're here."

"Good," Hans breathed in relief. "That's good."

"I have money," Rusty added, patting the package in his coat. "As much as you want."

"We will get to that later," Hans said dismissively. "This way, please." Somehow, and Rusty didn't quite see _how, _he opened a hidden panel in the wall, revealing a steep flight of stairs down to the basement. "Do you need a hand with him?"

Instinctively, Rusty clutched Danny tighter. "No," he said at once. "No, I've got him."

Hans nodded, watching them carefully. "As you like. Please, follow me."

He followed slowly, terrified of falling, terrified of dropping Danny. There was a small but clean and well-equipped surgery at the bottom. A couple of beds surrounded by curtains, an operating table, a trolley covered in sharp instruments, a sink, a locked drug cabinet, what looked like a portable x-ray machine...Rusty breathed a sigh of relief. This looked promising. Fuck, let Danny be okay. He'd do anything...

"Please put him on the table," Hans said. "Where is the injury?"

"His back," Rusty said tightly. "A bullet wound."

"I see, I see," Hans nodded. "And was there an exit wound?"

"No." He'd checked. And now he was imagining that bullet still tearing through Danny, working it's way deeper into his spine.

"Thank you. Please place him face down and I will take a look."

Rusty did as he was told. Danny lay pale and cold and still, his breathing terrifyingly shallow_. _"It's going to be okay," Rusty murmured, gripping Danny's hand for a long moment, uncaring of the audience. "You're going to be fine. You don't get to leave me like this, remember?"

Hans cleared his throat, and Rusty nodded apologetically and stood back, watching in breathless, terrified anticipation as Hans checked Danny's pulse, blood pressure and pupil reaction, connecting him up to a couple of machines and making small unhappy sounding noises, before quickly wheeling a ventilator over and grabbing an intubation set. Rusty bit savagely into his lip as he watched the tube forced down Danny's throat. He couldn't stop the soft noise of agony. This was like a nightmare. And he hadn't even seen the bullet wound yet...

At last Hans took a pair of scissors and delicately cut the shirt and the mess of improvised bandages off Danny's back. "Mmmm," Hans murmured to himself. "I see, I see." He carefully cut off Danny's pants and boxers as well, easing them off while moving Danny as little as possible, before gently covering Danny's lower half with a sheet. "In cases of spinal injuries, it is important to reduce any swelling around the spinal cord as soon as possible. I'm going to give him a large injection of steroids." He looked up at Rusty, blinking. "There is a torch on the bench behind you. Please bring it over here."

He turned and spotted the flashlight and grabbed it over. "Here," he said, holding it out, but Hans didn't take it.

"Thank you. Please, just shine it on your lover's back so I can see better."

Again, he did as he was told, but he glanced up at Hans quickly, wondering.

Hans caught him looking. "Oh, I hope you are not offended," he said apologetically. "Please, believe me, I don't mind. I like to think that I am very openminded."

Rusty just shrugged. Right now, it hardly seemed to matter, if it ever did. He moved the flashlight as he was directed, and watched Hans give the injection directly into Danny's back and continue the examination.

"Yes," Hans said at last, standing up straight and slowly peeling off his bloody gloves. "I believe there is hope for your friend. I may well be able to save his life...though only time will tell if he will walk again. I have a good idea of the angle of impact, but in order to operate successfully, I shall first of all have to perform an x-ray."

"Right," Rusty nodded intently. "Let's get on with it then. What do you need me to do?"

Hans smiled widely. "Please take out your penis and show it to me."

Time stopped. For a moment, Rusty just stared, certain he must have somehow misheard. "_What?"_

"I should like to see your penis," Hans said calmly. "And you are going to show it to me. Unless you want to carry your lover out of here and try and find some other doctor? I can assure you, you would be signing his death warrant."

He would be. Danny needed treatment _now. _This was his only chance. And Rusty had seen enough to be certain that Hans was a good doctor.

Danny wouldn't want this. Danny would be furious at him for even thinking about this. "You just want to look?" he clarified.

"Oh, yes," Hans nodded. "I am afraid that is all we have time for. But please. Go ahead."

This was nothing that mattered. This wasn't important in the least. Face blank, he unzipped his pants, reached inside and drew his dick out and stood there, dangling ridiculously.

Hans made an approving clucking sound, and leaned in close for a long, thoughtful inspection as Rusty gritted his teeth. He didn't try to touch in any way. Somehow, that almost made it worse. Rusty had been treated like meat before. This was like being reduced to furniture. "Very nice," Hans said, after an eternity. "Very nice indeed. Thank you."

He stood up, beaming happily. "And now," he said, "I will save your lover's life."

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading, hope you liked it. :) Please take a moment to review. I swear the wait for the next chapter won't be long. <strong>


	2. Just like your prom date

**A/N: For anyone who might be wondering, no, I have no idea what country they're in. It's deliberately vague. For all I know, it's Latveria. :)**

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><p>Hans turned and started fiddling with the x-ray machine. Hands shaking with shock and anger, Rusty quickly started to tuck himself away.<p>

"Leave that out, please," Hans called without looking round. "It will inspire me while I work."

"Not exactly hygienic," Rusty noted evenly.

Hans chuckled deeply. "You can put it away when we start to operate," he offered magnanimously. "For now, I just want you to hold the machine steady for me and look pretty. I am sure you can manage that."

The x-ray machine was heavy and complicated. Rusty occupied himself reading all the instructions and serial numbers on it that he could find. Anything to take his mind away from the unreality of the situation. He was standing over Danny's unconscious, bleeding body with his dick hanging out. Danny might never walk...no! No, he wasn't going to think of that. Danny would be fine.

But Danny was hurt. And that was all that should be in his head now. He shouldn't be getting upset over what was, after all, a minor humiliation.

Hans hummed tunelessly while he worked. "I only have one lead apron, I'm afraid," he said apologetically. "It is a good thing that you're not likely to be having children, isn't it?" He laughed cheerfully to himself.

"That's fine," Rusty said uncaringly, his eyes fixed on Danny's face. Danny hadn't moved. There was sweat and dirt beaded on his forehead.

"Please stand behind me," Hans said earnestly.

He wanted to resist, just out of spite, but he didn't want to risk Hans delaying anymore, so he nodded and moved back against the sink.

There was a whirring and clicking sound. "Good," Hans said, sounding pleased. "Now, I will need to develop these and we will see where we are."

"He hasn't woken up," Rusty said tightly.

"A good thing," Hans answered. "If he had, I would need to give him something to put him under again." He finished up with the x-ray machine and removed the cassette. "Good," he said again cheerfully. "Now, I need to develop these, which will take a short time, I am afraid. Whatever will we do in the meantime, mm?" He beamed at Rusty, his gaze resting openly on Rusty's cock.

Rusty stood his ground, back straight and unashamed.

"Why don't you make us both a coffee?" Hans suggested, to his hidden surprise. "There's a machine back there. I take mine milky with four sugars, if you please."

Right. That was...well, he was no-one's servant, and normally he would have told Hans exactly where to go...even providing explicit directions...but there was nothing normal about this situation. "Of course," he said steadily, and he walked across the room, each step that took him further from Danny worse than the last, and he found a couple of mugs and set about making coffee.

Hans took the cassette over to the desk and was apparently hard at work, his eyes fixed on the computer screen. "Oh, and please remove your shirt, if you don't mind," he called, without looking up.

Rusty stilled, his fist clenched tight. "And what if I do mind?" he asked, low and dangerous.

"Yes, yes, I am sure you are a very tough boy," Hans said with a dismissive little laugh. "You are younger than I am, and fitter than I am, and I'm sure that if I were to try to force you to do anything it would go very badly for me. But I would remind you, you need me, while I do not need you or your lover at all. Look at his face."

Rusty looked. Even unconscious, Danny's face was lined with pain. He remembered the way Danny had screamed as he fell. The helpless, awful protectiveness roared through him.

"Is a little bit of your pride really worth so much more than him, tough boy?" Hans asked softly.

No. Of course not. There was nothing that Danny wasn't worth. And he'd never been embarrassed about being seen naked, anyway. Hell, he was notorious for it. People made jokes...this was nothing.

He reached up to his top button.

"Wait a moment please," Hans said suddenly, looking down at his screen with disappointment. "You have distracted me," he said mournfully. "I will need to start over."

"You distracted yourself," Rusty snapped crisply.

"Mmm." Hans stood up and leaned back against the desk. "Take your shirt off. Slowly, please."

Of course. He met Hans' eyes defiantly and undid his shirt buttons one by one, counting to five in his head after each one. He tried his best to keep his movements wooden, devoid of his usual grace, but by the slight, appreciative curve to Hans' mouth, it didn't make a difference. Finally, he eased the shirt off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. "There," he said abruptly. "Happy?"

"Thank you," Hans said, looking back at his computer at last. "I'll take my coffee over here."

Wordlessly, he finished making the coffee and carried it back across the room, head held high and not giving a damn. "Here you go," he said flatly, placing the coffee on the desk next to Hans.

"Your nipples are very pink," Hans commented as he looked up, his eyes lingering clinically over Rusty's body. "Do you find they're very sensitive?"

"Not particularly," Rusty said evenly.

Hans grinned knowingly. "You know, I bet they are." He took a mouthful of coffee. "This is very good, tough boy. Thank you."

"You're welcome," he said with heavy irony.

Hans' gaze moved lower. "And well done on not spilling any on yourself. That would have been very nasty. I would hate to have had to stop treating your lover to rub ointment on you."

Rusty smiled humourlessly. "I bet you would've."

"Such are the sacrifices a doctor must make," Hans agreed solemnly, turning his attention back to his work dismissively.

It was a relief. Rusty returned to to Danny's side and took his hand, full of silent promises that everything was going to be alright. Somehow. No matter what it took.

"Ahhhhh," Hans exhaled slowly. "And there we are. This is very good. Come and see." Reluctantly, he relinquished Danny's hand. Hans had the x-rays up on the screen behind the operating table, and he pointed at them excitedly. "There is the unfortunate bullet, look. It has entered at an angle and broken this rib, and is lodged between the vertebrae here, but do you know, it appears it may have not severely impacted the spine after all. Your lover must have some angel looking out for him."

"So you can operate?" Rusty asked, his heart in his mouth.

"Yes," Hans agreed. "The sooner the better. However," He held a finger up and Rusty braced himself. "He has lost a lot of blood and he will lose more. I should prefer to give him a transfusion preoperatively, but I would need to know his bloodtype and give it to my friend who works at the hospital tomorrow morning. Now, if I operate without the transfusion, there's a good chance he will die, and if I wait till tomorrow things will have moved and he will almost certainly be paralysed. What - "

" - Danny's A positive, but I'm O negative," Rusty cut in quickly. "That's universal donor, right?"

"Correct!" Hans looked delighted. "Yes, that should do very nicely. I shall take a couple of pints out of you tonight and text my friend tomorrow and he will bring more blood to help in his recovery. If he survives the night, that is."

He turned away and started pulling tubing and bags out of a drawer, but Rusty grabbed his arm. "What are his chances?"

Hans gazed down at his hand for a second, then straightened up and looked Rusty in the eye. "I will not lie to you, the odds of him making a full recovery are not in our favour. But there _is _a chance. And now I have seen the x-rays I am greatly encouraged. But it is not a simple operation and there is always the possibility of complications. I can tell you this," he added with sincerity. "He is better off with me than with any other surgeon in the country."

Rusty nodded slowly. That last had the undeniable ring of truth. "Thank you," he said softly, because whatever else, he could be grateful for _this._

"You are welcome," Hans said, smiling again. "And please, try not to touch me while I am working." His eyes travelled down Rusty's chest and came to rest at his groin. "I admit, I find a boy in your state of undress very distracting."

He dropped Hans' arm in instinctive disgust. "Can we get on?"

"So eager," Hans laughed, before growing serious. "Very well. Bring that chair over beside your lover and sit down please."

He did, holding Danny's hand again, and he managed not to even shudder when a moment later Hans was leaning in close to him, solicitously rubbing the crook of his elbow with an antiseptic wipe. "It is fortune I had you remove your shirt," he murmured.

That wasn't even worth dignifying with an answer.

"Normally your blood would be screened before we let it near another human being," Hans told him, leaning in even closer as he pulled a cuff tightly around Rusty's upper arm. "However, we don't have time for that in these circumstances, so please take this opportunity to be honest with me. Have you been naughty?"

The implication was obvious. "No," Rusty said curtly.

"Really?" Hans pressed. "No playing away from home that lover boy doesn't know about?"

"I'm clean," Rusty declared.

"Oh, I very much doubt that," Hans laughed, sliding the needle home smoothly.

It didn't hurt. But watching Hans mover over to Danny...after _that _conversation, watching Hans thrust a needle into Danny's unprotected flesh...oh, that did hurt.

"And there," Hans declared happily after a few moments. "Now you are inside of him. Is that a new experience for you?"

He didn't want to – not now – but he couldn't help remember the warmth of Danny's mouth around him. Had that really been just last night?

"Oh ho!" Hans exclaimed, eyes gleaming. I see that it is not." He ran his thumb clinically down Danny's jawline. "I would not have thought your lover the type to roll over for anyone. I suppose appearances can be - "

" - don't touch him!" Rusty snarled, half out of his chair but not daring to move further for fear of dislodging the needle. "Get your fucking hands off him."

With an exaggerated movement, Hans backed away. "I apologise. But you are normally the woman, between the two of you, aren't you? A posterior like yours was made to be enjoyed."

Rusty's jaw clenched. "How is it possible that no one has punched you in the face before?" he ground out.

Hans laughed merrily. "You really want to, don't you? Your self-control is admirable. Now, you just stay as you are for another thirty minutes or so. I will sit here and enjoy the view." He pulled another chair over and sat looking straight at Rusty with open enjoyment.

Determinedly, Rusty ignored him, turning his head and looking at Danny instead. With the oxygen and the blood, there was a little more colour in Danny's face. Not enough to say that he looked fine, but an improvement on the deathly grey he'd been before. He could almost imagine Danny opening his eyes...and then he imagined, for the briefest of seconds, what Danny would see if he _did, _and automatically his hand flew to his pants, trying to cover up.

"Please try not to play with your penis while the transfusion is in progress," Hans chided. "I understand that it's inviting when it's just sitting there, and you are gazing oh-so-tenderly at your lover, but we need your blood pressure to remain steady."

With a deep breath, he moved his hands back to his side. "Of course," he said evenly. Protesting that he _hadn't _been would be a waste of air, he knew that. And still, when he looked back at Danny it was so much harder to keep his gaze steady.

Eventually the gauge beeped and Hans looked at it approvingly. "And that is you done," he declared, removing the needle from Danny's arm and expertly slipping a dressing on. "Two pints."

"I can give more," Rusty said quickly. "If he needs it."

"That's already more than you're supposed to give at a time," Hans pointed out, almost gently. "And we need you to be capable of standing for us to assist in the operation."

Yeah. It just didn't feel enough. Still, he pulled the needle out and bit his tongue when Hans gave an exclamation of protest and disapproval and immediately hurried over to dab the blood away and smooth a bandaid over the mark.

"Drink this as well please," Hans added, taking a can of Coke out of the fridge. "You will need the energy. This is going to take some time."

He drank it. It was cold and sweet. It tasted good. He hated it.

He watched in concern as Hans started drawing up drugs and making up an IV. "What are you giving him?" he asked sharply, before Hans even took one step closer to Danny.

"Fluids and a prophylactic antibiotic," Hans answered sweetly. "Have you finished? Once I've placed these, we will begin."

Begin? Rusty frowned. "What about anaesthetic?" he demanded. "Painkillers?"

"What about them?" Hans said with a shrug. "They are expensive."

"I have money," he reminded Hans sharply. "Whatever you want."

"We will get to remuneration later," Hans told him. "Your lover is unconscious. I have no wish to waste my drugs on him."

That wasn't...that wasn't the _point. _That wasn't how it worked. "What if he wakes up?"

Hans smiled toothily. "Then he'll probably die of shock, won't he?"

"You can't do this!" It was a ridiculous protest, and they both knew it.

He wasn't surprised when Hans leaned back coolly against the counter and just studied him for a long moment, a sharp little smile playing around his mouth. "I should like to touch you," he said at last.

No, it wasn't a surprise. But he could still feel his heart hammering in his chest. Danny was laying there. Danny... "There's no time!" he said, desperately. "_After _- " After, he could do what he liked. Anything he liked.

" - then there is no time for anaesthetic, tough boy," Hans said implacably. "There is time. Ten minutes. Just my hands and nothing below the waist. I will be the perfect gentleman, just like your prom date."

Inconsequentially, he remembered Diane Shelley. She had hardly been a gentleman, not in any sense of the word. "Just ten minutes?" he asked hesitantly.

"I will set an alarm," Hans promised. "It will take that long for the drugs to take effect anyway. Why don't you sit down on the bed and make yourself comfortable."

His mouth was dry. His comfort obviously wasn't an option here, but he sat down anyway, watching as Hans fixed the medication, checking and double checking everything. It looked right, but hell, how much of his medical knowledge came from TV? He didn't have any choice but to trust that Hans was really trying to save Danny. Fuck, of all the people to be trusting Danny's life to...

"And there," Hans said, when everything was arranged to his satisfaction. "We have ten minutes. Let's enjoy ourselves." He walked slowly towards Rusty, deliberate intent in every step.

This was going to happen. He didn't want to look at Danny during this...he _couldn't. _Instead, he picked a spot on the whitewashed wall and focused on it, trying to keep his expression bored and unconcerned.

Hans started with his hair, rubbing his hands through it and making pleased little cooing noises as he twisted short little strands around his fingers. "It is very soft," he said approvingly. "I am surprised. I would have thought the bleach would have made it dry."

He didn't respond. Hans didn't seem to care. Eventually he moved on, stroking his fingers down Rusty's face, exploring around his eyes and nose and cheekbones with awful curiosity, eventually brushing around his mouth, pressing insistently against his lips. "Open wide," he murmured. Rusty hesitated, but only for a moment (_for Danny!) _and then his mouth was open and Hans fingers were rubbing over his tongue and around the inside of his cheeks. They tasted of soap and antiseptic, and yet they left the taste of filth in his mouth until he thought he might be sick. It was an eternity before Hans finally took them out with a gentle pop, but Rusty barely got to enjoy a second of relief before Hans laughed and ran his wet fingers around the rim of Rusty's ear, pushing gently inside, and he felt like screaming all over again.

Once he was satisfied, his hands slipped down onto Rusty's bare shoulders, breaking into a firm massage for a good while before he ran down each of Rusty's arms in turn, squeezing approvingly. "You have some nice muscles. You must be stronger than you look." He crept onto Rusty's stomach, probing into his belly button and pinching around his sides. "And not an inch of fat! You must make your lover very happy."

Danny cared about _him _not his body. When Danny touched him, it never felt like _this. _His eyes were burning as he stared fiercely at the wall, not even blinking in case that gave something away.

It wasn't him that gave himself away. Hans' breathing quickened noticeably as his hands crept up Rusty chest, focusing on his nipples as he _felt _and _tweaked _and _twisted. _It hurt more than anything else he'd done so far. It was a sharp and burning pain, but worse was the way he gently rubbed over them afterwards, because that was almost...almost...not... His fingernails dug deep into his palm. Danny. This was all for Danny.

"_Beautiful,_" Hans whispered. It was the first thing he'd said that didn't seem planned and controlled and Rusty couldn't help but twist round sharply to look at him. His eyes were shining, his lips parted. "They are very red now," he murmured. "So wonderfully responsive. I wonder..." He looked over to the tray of sharp surgical instruments.

A shudder of terror ran through him. "You said that you'd just use your hands," he said quickly.

"So I did, so I did," Hans said disappointedly. "Well, I am a man of my word. For now, I will simply explore you with my fingers. You do feel so _good._"

He didn't feel good. It hurt and even though this was nothing, really, it made him feel unclean.

The alarm finally went off a lifetime too late.

Hans sighed regretfully. "And now down to business. Get dressed please, tough boy, and wash your hands thoroughly. There are scrubs in that drawer there. Playtime is over."

Silently, Rusty got dressed. He couldn't even look at Danny.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading, please review!<strong>


	3. Like you kiss him

**A/N: I'd meant to post this earlier in the week. Sorry!**

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><p>He'd assisted with emergency surgery before in his time, but that been with Stan as the surgeon, and Danny hadn't been the one lying on the table being cut open. This was so much worse. It was all he could do to keep up any kind of mask of professional detachment when inside he was screaming with every slice of the scalpel.<p>

"Just think," Hans said cheerfully, as his gloved hands vanished inside Danny's back, past the peeled-back layers of skin and muscle to the white of exposed bone. "Right now I am deeper inside your lover than you will ever be. Retractor, please. The third one from the left."

Rusty's hand clenched convulsively around the instrument and he had to force his fingers to release it into the expectant hand. This man shouldn't be allowed to _touch _Danny. Shouldn't be allowed in the same room. There weren't gloves thick enough in the world.

Thankfully, Hans mostly seemed content to keep his mouth shut while he worked, keeping to requests for instruments or juice, which Rusty fetched and fed him through a straw. He was actually almost as good as Stan at explaining patiently what he needed without getting annoyed, or losing himself in technical talk that Rusty didn't have a hope of understanding. It was...reassuring. His hands moved quickly and with confidence as well, and while Rusty might not be able to tell how well it was going, he seemed to know what he was doing and was actually focused on saving Danny's life.

Even when Hans asked him to mop his brow and Rusty had to step in close and actually touch him, Hans didn't spare him more than a quick leer and that...that wasn't a problem. _(There was a lot he could live with if it meant Danny lived._)

The bullet rattled as Hans dropped it into the waiting tray.

"That's it?" Rusty asked stupidly. It looked so small.

"That is the easy part," Hans told him. "Now I must attempt to repair the damage it caused. This will take several hours."

It did. Rusty didn't know exactly how much time passed, but it felt like years as he watched Hans screw in metal bands, the whine of drill on bone echoing awfully through his head, before he moved onto repairing the mess of oozing blood vessels and picking out tiny slivers of bone – Danny's bone! - and finally closing up the gaping wound. Rusty had a strong stomach but it was only by trying to concentrate on what he was doing and try and forget that this was _Danny _that he was better to get through it. And then, of course, he felt guilty every time he did forget, even for a second, that this was Danny.

Nothing he'd been through tonight compared, none of it mattered. And still he was exhausted, and when Hans had placed the last stitch, disinfected and dressed the wound, and finally declared them done, the adrenaline wore off all at once and he felt himself sway and had to stumble backwards towards the bed.

"Hey!" Hans cried out in alarm and a second later Rusty felt an unwelcome arm around his waist and he struggled uselessly as he was guided to lie back for a moment.

"You should have told me if you needed a break," Hans scolded firmly. "You could have sat down for a minute without hurting your lover. There is no need to try to be that tough."

"Is he..." Rusty didn't know how to finish the sentence.

"We will have to wait and see. He will need to be kept completely motionless for twenty four hours. I will keep him under. After that, we can transfer him to the bed and I will run some tests to check what the extent of injury is. He will need to lie still for at least a couple of weeks before you can think of moving him at all."

A couple of weeks. There were people looking for them. And if he told Hans that, he was afraid they might just be thrown out onto the street. Hans' principles were not something he wanted to trust their lives to. (_And yet that was exactly what he was doing._) "I can pay you for the inconvenience," he said. "And more when we leave."

Hans nodded. "Yes," he agreed archly. "I know."

Of course, he thought dully. For a moment he'd been blinded by the professionalism and competence, and it had almost slipped his mind that money wasn't the only thing Hans was interested in.

Humming under his breath, Hans moved back towards Danny and started peeling back the sheet that covered him below the waist.

"What are you doing?" Rusty demanded sharply, sitting up instantly.

Hans looked over at him. "Oh, your lover made quite a mess. I thought it would be better if I cleaned it up and then I can insert a catheter to prevent any more accidents."

Oh. He hadn't noticed at the time, but yeah, he could smell it. "I'll do that," he snapped, leaping out of bed and hurrying to grab the wipes out of Hans' hands before he so much as _touched _Danny.

"Very well," Hans murmured. "Do be careful to be as gently as possible. Moving his spine at this stage would be very bad."

Rusty didn't need to be told to be gentle. He cleaned Danny up with feather light touches and patted him dry, and tried not to imagine how much Danny would _hate _this.

"Very nice," Hans approved, standing so close Rusty could feel hot breath on the back of his neck. "Now, you know there is a good chance he will be confined to bed for the rest of his life. How would you feel, I wonder, having to wipe your lover's arse for him every day for the rest of his life? Would you leave him?"

With a shudder, he imagined Danny trapped in one room – in one bed – for the rest of his life. Going from a world of unimaginable adventure and wonder to staring at the same four walls every day forever. Stripped of life, of _dignity..._ it would drive Danny mad, he was sure of it. Oh, _fuck. _Please. If there was anything out there listening, _please. _Please don't let that happen.

Aloud – and not to Hans, never to Hans – he said "I will never leave him."

"That is touching," Hans said, and Rusty couldn't tell if it was a sneer or not. "Now, move out of the way so I can get this in." He held up a catheter.

Rusty felt his mouth twist. "I don't want you touching him," he snarled. Not there. Not like that. Not ever.

"Come, now," Hans sighed. "Is that any way to talk to the man who just saved your lover's life. Do _you _know how to place a catheter?"

He stood, staring at Hans helplessly. He didn't, of course. He should. He could have had Stan or someone show him...why had he never realised it might come in useful?"

"That is what I thought," Hans nodded. "Now. Step aside."

He stepped aside.

In a twisted way, this was even worse than watching Hans operate on Danny. Because he barely bothered to cloak his actions in the veneer of professionalism. His splayed hand rested on Danny's thigh, his hand lingered as he lifted Danny's cock too quick for Rusty to voice an objection. "You know," Hans said conversationally. "His penis is most definitely thicker than yours, but I'm not sure if it is longer. I should love to see you both aroused at once so I could make a proper comparison."

"That's never gonna happen," Rusty spat.

"Yes, I know," Hans sighed regretfully. "Sadly, loss of sexual function is a common result of spinal injury. I'm afraid the two of you may need to content yourselves with cuddling from now on."

"That's not - " Rusty began, and subsided immediately. Hans already knew that wasn't what he meant and didn't care.

"That's not enough for you?" Hans finished sympathetically. "I'm not surprised. His penis _is _very nice. If that's what you've been used to, I suppose it is difficult to imagine going without. Still, there are always substitutes. Perhaps you could take other lovers. Perhaps he would even enjoy watching."

Rusty's fist was clenched. He mustn't hit Hans. They were dependent on his good will.

"Or perhaps he might find he takes pleasure in watching you pleasure yourself with a nice fat dildo?" Hans suggested encouragingly, finishing up with an unnecessary caress and mercifully stepping away from Danny. "You get some very realistic looking ones, you know. You could even both pretend it was him. There are always options, if you have the imagination." His smile was bright and knowing.

Inescapably, Rusty took a step towards him.

"Your lover will need close monitoring and a complex series of drugs and treatments," Hans said quickly. "He may even need further surgery. You can assume that the nicer you are to me the more effort I shall put in."

Danny was out of immediate danger...but Danny couldn't be moved. He could call another doctor...somehow...but there were still people looking for them and that would mean they'd be more likely to be discovered. And anything like that would take time which meant Hans could hurt Danny, and Danny was helpless.

_Fuck. _He held his hands up in surrender. "Fine."

"Good." Hans' eyes were sharp. "Tough boys like you need to learn their place. Now. I am going upstairs for a few hours sleep. I have left the medication running so your lover should be fine, but the monitoring equipment is connected to my pager so I will be alerted immediately if anything changes. That said, having a pair of eyes on the patient is always helpful, so I expect you to alert me if you think anything might be wrong or different." He handed Rusty a button. "That will automatically trigger an alarm that will go to my pager."

Yes, he supposed a phone was too much to ask for. He took a deep breath." Thank you," he said remotely. "For saving him."

Hans looked at him in surprise for a second then smiled. "I think I deserve a better kind of thank you," he said. "I should like a goodnight kiss."

Rusty clenched his jaw. A kiss. He could do that. Not trusting himself to speak, he stepped forwards and leaned in to kiss Hans on the lips, quick and chaste and dry.

Eyes gleaming, Hans shook his head. "No, no, no," he scolded. "Do you really call that a kiss? You can do better than that. Kiss me like you kiss _him._"

_No. _And yet, the answer was yes. Soul screaming, he leaned in to Hans again, his eyes closed this time, and this time he lingered, letting his lips part and when Hans' tongue swept into his mouth he played with it, teased it, and as Hans' hands came up and gripped his hair, pulling him in closer, he could feel Hans' erection pressing into his hip.

No more. No more. Let this be enough, _please._

"That was very nice," Hans panted as they broke apart. "You are very gifted with your mouth. I shall have to remember that." He smiled widely. "Goodnight now."

"Goodnight," Rusty repeated tonelessly. He watched Hans climb the stairs and close the door behind him, before racing up after him. As he'd expected, the door was locked and with no obvious mechanism on this side.

It wasn't a surprise; Hans was too confident and too prepared for Rusty to think they were the first to be caught like this. He imagined it was usually the patient himself being coerced into paying with more than money – Hans must be delighted to get someone healthy to play with, especially considering they were going to be trapped for so long.

His fist slammed into the wall. This was going to get so much worse. For Danny, though. He reminded himself. Everything was alright if it was for Danny.

Slowly he trudged back down the stairs, watching Danny's face as he slept. Danny wouldn't be so convinced of that. He closed his eyes briefly, unconsciously wiping at his mouth. He could still taste the kiss. Disgusted, he went to the sink and rinsed his mouth out several times, hoping that if he could just get the taste away it wouldn't have happened. None of it would have happened. Eventually, he gave up and just stood there a moment, head bowed against the wall, hand gripping the rim of the sink to hold him up.

"So," he said at last, turning his head slightly to look at Danny. "This has been one hell of a day." His voice was just a little too loud in the quiet basement, just a little too high-pitched. Even to his own ears, he sounded on the verge of hysteria and that was no good.

Standing up straight, head held high, he walked back over towards Danny but stopped feet from the table, struggling to go even one step further. _Fragile _wasn't a word he'd normally associate with Danny but now...oh, fuck, now... He swallowed hard. "I can't touch you," he said, his voice softer now. "Hans..._he _said you can't be moved. And there's no way I'm risking hurting you any more." It still seemed so cruel. Danny needed to be touched. "You're not awake right now," he said, trying to justify himself. "It's not like you need the comfort."

The stillness on Danny's face somehow managed to look accusatory. Rusty's fingernails dug deep into his own palm. "I'm sorry," he said, low and rough and miserable. "Oh, fuck, Danny, I'm _sorry. _I don't know what went wrong." That still made it so much worse. Danny had the brilliant, reckless, impossible plans; Rusty was supposed to make sure that they didn't get hurt or caught. And here they were, trapped, and Danny was so much more hurt than even Rusty's worst nightmares. "I let you down. Everything I've done tonight has been wrong."

He stood and watched the flicker of Danny's heartbeat across the monitor for a while. It was comforting. "I let him see that we were together," he admitted. He gave a bitter laugh. "Pretty fucked up, huh? I spent the last six months not letting you tell our friends, and then I just give it away to an enemy. Yeah. Pretty fucking stupid of me." And that wasn't the worse. He took a long, shaky breath. "I think he would've gone after me anyway. Don't think that was anything to do with _us." _

Unconsciously, he wiped across his mouth with the back of his hand again. That was the first time he'd kissed anyone but Danny in three months. He hadn't really had a choice, so it shouldn't feel like cheating, but it did. "Sorry," he whispered, more to soothe his own conscience than anything else. He'd been a lot of things in his life, but never a cheater. Not like that.

The memory, _feeling _of hands was still clinging to his chest. The scrub top he was wearing didn't feel like it covered him enough. (_Danny's blood was still on it, stained right through to his skin._) "He's not going to stop," he said to Danny, only because he was so very sure that Danny couldn't hear him. "He can do whatever he likes. He knows I won't stop him. Doubt he's going to be content with a quick kiss and a bit of groping." It was so very easy to picture the look on Danny's face at that. Pale and outraged and horrified. He ran his hands through his hair, angrily pulling at it, enough to make it _hurt. _"What do you expect me to do?" he demanded in a harsh whisper. "We need him. He's the only doctor here, and you need help and can't be moved. And if I call Stan, or someone, ask them to come down here, you really think Hans won't find out? This is his territory." And Danny was more vulnerable than he ever had been. "Not to mention, there are still people looking for us. We make any kind of noise, and they're going to find this place, and they're going to kill everyone here, you, me, Stan..." He took a deep breath. Closed his eyes. And when he spoke his voice was absolutely steady. "Next to that, does it really matter if I let him fuck me?"

Danny's answer was yes. That it would _always_ matter. And right now, Rusty couldn't listen to that.

"Going to need to call someone to get us out of here eventually," he said wearily. "Bobby, maybe. He's got the contacts, the resources..." And if Bobby had the slightest idea what was going on here, that Danny was _hurt, _he'd be here in an instant. Only problem with that was... "Making noise again," he agreed. "Back to them killing everyone." And if Bobby knew what Hans was doing, that might just include him too.

"Hans has to know that," he said slowly, rubbing his fist against his forehead. "He has to expect some sort of payback, right?" And he'd told Hans that no one knew they were here. He grimaced. "Told you. Everything I've done tonight is wrong. Okay. So, if I can get a message to Bobby...not now, but when you're recovering...if I can give him more info about who Hans is, then Hans will know he can't...dispose of us...and be safe. He'll have to let us go." He nodded to himself, trying to sound comforting. "You see, Danny? This is all just temporary. Everything will be alright. I'll _make _it alright. I'll promise him. He takes care of you, and everything else will stay between him and me. No one will ever know. Especially not you."

Danny didn't move. His chest rose and fell with the movement of the ventilator.

Rusty stepped away from Danny quickly, pacing angrily across the floor. "Don't look at me like that, _you don't need to know. _Whatever happens, happens. And you knowing won't change that. It'll just hurt you. And fuck knows, I've hurt you enough already."

And didn't that just bring it all back. The anger...the agitation...subsided, and he slumped down onto the floor beside the operating table, on guard and waiting. Danny might never walk again. Danny might never... He bit his lip hard and stared determinedly ahead of himself until the threat of tears retreated. "You're going to get better. That's all you need to concentrate on right now. Getting better. And I'll do whatever it takes to make that happen, I swear it."

His hands were flat on the floor, his fingernails scraping into the concrete. He stared up the stairs, towards where Hans had disappeared. "Whatever it takes."

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading, please review. :)<br>**


	4. If you love him, you'll swallow it

**A**/**N: Few days later than I'd intended. But I'm hoping to have the next chapter done by the weekend. :)**

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><p><em>It had taken three weeks working flat out, neither of them had slept in fifty hours, and their shoulders were still aching from the hundred-and-fifty foot abseil...but they were alive and what's more they were millionaires. Or at least between them they were <em>a _millionaire. But that was the sort of detail that really didn't matter. _

_He turned to Danny, laughing with sheer, giddy joy. It was a good day. The best. And Danny was laughing too, even while the rain poured down around them, soaking them both through to the skin. "We should - " he started to say, about to offer some suggestion of alcohol and pizza, like he had so many times before, but that was when Danny leaned in and kissed him. _

_It was soft and urgent all at once. Tender and hot and absolutely loving, and it seemed to last a hundred years. _

"_Was that alright?" Danny asked with uncharacteristic hesitation as he drew back. _

_There were questions in Rusty's mind. Questions around "Why?" and "Why now?" and "Are you sure?" But there was uncertainty in Danny's eyes, uncertainty about Rusty's reaction, about _them _and all the questions could wait for another day. _

"_Definitely," he murmured, the smile playing around his lips. "But let's try it a few more times just to be sure." _

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><p>For a moment when he woke, the memory of warmth and Danny still bright in his mind, he wasn't sure why he was sleeping on the floor. Then yesterday came flooding back and he looked up at Danny anxiously, guilty to have fallen asleep even for a moment. Nothing had changed. Danny's face was still blank and still. He stood up to check on the machines and there didn't seem to be anything new there either. Danny's heart was still beating. The medication was still being pumped into his veins. Everything was very far from fine, but they were no worse off than last night.<p>

He glanced at his watch. It was a little after eight, which meant he could only have been asleep for ten minutes or so, which was a slight comfort. Still, he couldn't let it happen again, and he stood up, slowly, pacing across the floor, trying to work the knots out of his back.

"I dreamt about the night you first kissed me," he said, glancing over at Danny. "After the Toronto job, do you remember? Felt like we were walking on air." He rolled his neck restlessly. "I still don't know why then," he added. "You said it was an impulse thing – because I just looked so damned kissable – but it was more than that." There was a burning sensation in his eyes. "Eight years of friendship, and then..." He shook his head. "S'ppose it doesn't matter now."

Exhausted, he stepped into the bathroom at the end of the basement and splashed some cold water on his face. It helped wake him up a bit, even if it didn't help him feel anymore human. He caught sight of the blood splashed across him, and with a shudder, he hauled the scrub top off. Fuck.

He couldn't help but notice that the bathroom was fully equipped with a shower stall, and everything you could possibly want. This place was designed to keep someone for a very long time.

Expressionless, not thinking about anything, he changed back into yesterday's shirt and made himself a cup of coffee before he walked back to Danny and took up his seat on the floor again. There was still no change. Not that he really expected there to be. "Any time you want to talk to me would be fine," he said softly.

Time passed in silence.

Eventually there was a noise from the top of the stairs and he looked up sharply to see the panel slide open. He was on his feet in an instant, long before Hans had so much as set foot on the stairs, positioning himself protectively in front of Danny.

Hans sighed theatrically. "And to think I brought you breakfast," he said, holding up a plate with a sandwich on.

Food was the last thing on Rusty's mind. "What do you want?" he snarled.

Hans clicked his tongue. "In civilised countries we say 'good morning'."

"In civilised countries we don't blackmail people into sex," Rusty shot back.

"Mmm." Hans continued to smile, but his eyes darkened angrily. "I know you're eager, but I would remind you we have not had sex. Also I would be willing to bet you cannot name one country, civilised or not, where that is actually true. Men will be men. We all have our little...peccadilloes. It is simply that they are not discussed in polite company."

"I think you're confusing 'peccadilloes' with 'perversions," Rusty told him, smiling with just a little more contempt than he could really justify.

Hans' eyes narrowed. "You are very rude this morning," he said disapprovingly. "I think I would like it if we started over. Good morning."

The threat didn't need to be articulated. They both already knew he'd do anything Hans wanted. If that included _politeness..._well, he could do that too. "Good morning," he repeated clearly.

"You know, this seems too formal after last night," Hans mused. "It makes me feel a little awkward around you, and I don't enjoy feeling awkward. I think I would like it if you kissed me hello every time I came in."

"Would you?" Rusty asked tonelessly.

"Yes," Hans smiled sweetly. "You may kiss me when I arrive and as I am leaving. Now. Good morning." He waited expectantly.

He'd done this last night. It didn't matter a shred more now than it had then. He wasn't giving up any new ground. Stonefaced, he walked across the floor to Hans and kissed him with clinical passion.

"Very nice indeed," Hans approved, brushing past Rusty to scrub his hands at the sink and don a pair of latex gloves. "Now, why don't you eat that sandwich while I examine your lover?"

Even if he had an appetite right now, he really didn't want to eat anything Hans had prepared, especially in front of him. But If he wanted to be of any use to Danny at all, he needed to keep his strength up, and that meant eating when he could. And he really didn't put it past Hans to take the food way if Rusty didn't eat when he was told. That sort of pettiness seemed all too likely.

It was a bacon sandwich. Still warm. He swallowed it down and didn't taste it at all.

Hans finished his exam and nodded, frowning. "His blood pressure is still very low. I will give him another transfusion as soon as my friend arrives, which should be within the next few hours. Until then I will be upstairs. I have some work to do, but I will pop in and out to check on him as appropriate."

"How's he doing?" Rusty asked anxiously. "Is he - "

" - it is too early to tell," Hans cut in, sympathy oozing through his voice. "Now. Goodbye for the moment." He waited with that same air of expectation until Rusty kissed him. "You are very kissable," he said afterwards, dreamily, and he smiled when Rusty wasn't quite quick enough to hide the flinch.

Hans found excuses to come back downstairs several more times over the next few hours. Medications that had to be given, readings that had to be checked, and after the thirdfourth time, kissing him became if not easy then at least reflex. As long as he kept checking Danny, Rusty could make himself not mind. If what Hans wanted was reaction and humiliation then Rusty would be damned if he'd oblige.

And when Hans came downstairs with his friend two steps behind him holding a medical transport box, Rusty didn't hesitate before walking up to Hans and kissing him thoroughly, just like every other time, even though he could hear the other man sniggering.

The man said something to Hans, too fast for Rusty to hope to understand. Didn't matter. He didn't need the translation to understand the tone, let alone the leer.

"Sorry," Hans said, and Rusty had no doubt the English was strictly for his benefit. "You know I don't like to share my toys when they're still so new." He reached out and gently ran his hand down Rusty's cheek. "This one needs careful handling."

Another snigger, and this time Rusty caught some of the crude suggestion.

"Maybe later," Hans promised, and Rusty hid the chill of dread as only he could.

"I thought you said you wanted to do the blood transfusion as soon as possible," he reminded Hans coolly.

"You are right, of course," Hans agreed. "Very well. We have six units of A positive, freshly stolen from the hospital. I hope that does not bother you. I will transfuse two of them now and we will keep the rest back for emergencies. And now we owe my friend here five hundred dollars US. Please pay the man."

He nodded evenly and went into his jacket for the cash, turning his back so neither of them saw how much he had. Five crisp bills, and the blood thief's eyes gleamed and he said something about being happy to offer a discount if Rusty would just – and then Hans cleared his throat pointedly and with one last envious leer, he vanished up the stairs, closing the panel behind him.

"He has his uses," Hans remarked. "Now, I will set this up and then I fear I must leave you again."

It was unnerving watching the blood draining into Danny. He took some comfort in the fact that it had been stolen from the hospital. That almost certainly meant that it had been screened and was clean...but nothing felt like it was clean right now. He couldn't even begin to relax.

The transfusion took three hours. Hans came back in just as it was finishing up. He was smiling as he walked down the stairs, and his hand was in his pants, groping himself openly with evident pleasure. For a moment, all Rusty could do was stare in shock and disgust and Hans smiled warmly. "Now, let's see," he said, his voice a little more strained than usual. "I think we had best get this needle out, don't you? And then I want to check his wound." He took a step towards Danny and Rusty was there immediately, blocking his way.

"Wash your hands first," he warned tightly.

Hans kept his eyes fixed on Rusty. His hand kept moving. "No," he said simply.

_No? _The thought of Hans touching Danny at all was anathema. The thought of Hans touching Danny _now _with _that, _let alone going near an open wound... "Wash your fucking hands," he said, low and dangerous. "And put gloves on."

"But I don't want to," Hans complained. "It takes so much time, and it is so boring. No, I think from now on I will not bother with it."

It wasn't just a question of natural disgust. There were reasons doctors wore gloves, after all. The amount of germs that would be on Hans' bare hands right now was unthinkable. The thought of going through all this, only to lose Danny to some infection...no! "What do you want?" he asked. There had to be something Hans had in mind.

Hans acted like he hadn't heard him. "Perhaps if I was entertained while washing it would be easier to bother with it," he mused. "I should like it if I stimulated me while I attend to it."

Rusty nodded and ignored the way his mouth was dry. "You want me to jerk you off while you wash your hands."

"Must you be so crude?" Hans chided exasperatedly. "But in essence, yes. You are correct."

"Alright then." He jerked his towards the sink tersely. "Start washing."

"You really do not trust me at all, do you?" Hans said with a sigh as he obligingly, walked over to the sink, his hands in the air pointedly, his erection straining at the front of his pants.

Rusty waited until the tap was on before he even started to bring his hand towards Hans' pants.

"Please, take my penis out of my trousers before you begin," Hans said sweetly. "I dislike the thought of ejaculating in my underwear. I would find that _very _humiliating, wouldn't you? It would show a complete lack of control...like a horny little boy."

Right. Rusty nodded silently, not trusting himself to speak. He could do this. There was no difference here between this and any other guy he'd ever jerked off. This was even less intimate than kissing, certainly it was nothing like as bad as letting Hans put his hands all over him. If he could do that, he could certainly do this. He reached into Hans' pants and grabbed his cock. He could do this. His hand wasn't even trembling as he started to stroke.

"Please look at me while you work," Hans said, smiling. "I like to see your eyes. They are very pretty."

Oh, fuck. He felt the shudder tear through him, and worse, he knew Hans did too. Still, he looked straight in the eye and let his hand mechanically work the clammy flesh. This was nothing. This was nothing. This was...

_(Danny!)_

Eventually, after far longer than Rusty would have thought possible, Hans shuddered and exploded over Rusty's hand.

"Thank you," he panted approvingly. "That was very accomplished. Now, please clean my penis before you put it away. There is a handkerchief in my jacket pocket. Use your other hand, if you will."

Dully, Rusty fished into the jacket for the handkerchief. It was silk. Embroidered with the initials HL in a complex knot. Rusty just wished it felt like sandpaper, and he tried his best to surreptitiously clean his hand at the same time.

(_Not enough soap and water in the world._)

"You may keep the handkerchief," Hans said magnanimously when he was done. "Somehow, I always find that ejaculate carries a special kind of dirt, don't you think? Whatever a man leaves it I believe it , that thing is ruined forever."

"I think that just applies to you," Rusty said steadily.

Hans just laughed. If nothing else, at least Rusty had put him in a good mood. "Well, that was actually most enjoyable. I believe I shall be washing my hands a great deal more if that is what I have to look forward to."

Yeah. Rusty didn't doubt it. And just for now he felt too numb to care. _That was nothing, _he reminded himself jeeringly.

Mercifully, Hans turned his professional attention to Danny, removing the transfusion equipment, pulling back the dressings and examining the wound, checking the monitors, and making pleased sounding noises at whatever they were showing. "Very good," he said. "Tomorrow morning we will transfer him into the bed and I will reduce his sedation. Then we will see where we are."

Rusty closed his eyes. Every little promise of hope made this even more worth it. Danny would get better, and they'd leave this place and he'd never have to think about anything that happened here again.

After Hans had left with a lingering kiss, he slid down to the floor and stared vacantly at the ground beneath the table for a very long time, unmoving, unthinking.

"After all," he said at last, hollow words breaking the silence. "He hasn't actually hurt me. And he hasn't done a thing I didn't explicitly agree to."

He closed his eyes and tried to imagine Danny being swayed by those arguments.

Hans reappeared four or five more times that afternoon. Despite what he'd said, he didn't insist that Rusty jerk him off to completion every time. Sometimes he didn't even get hard. Sometimes just a couple of quick strokes was enough for him to tell Rusty to stop. And that told him this wasn't so much about sexual pleasure as the pleasure he took from making Rusty do it. But really, that was nothing he hadn't already known.

No matter what, the smell of sex clung to him. Hans was right; some stains didn't go away.

And then, around dinner time, when Rusty was incredulously trying to understand just how the hell he could be _hungry, _Hans came downstairs slowly and waved away Rusty's automatic motion to kiss him.

His face was pale. His eyes were dark and cold and serious. Something had happened, and Rusty stood his ground with an anxious glance at Danny. There hadn't been any changes. He'd been watching, and nothing on any of the monitors had changed, and Danny's chest was still rising and falling with each ventilated breath.

"So," Hans began, after a long moment's silence. "As it happens, I am in the habit of listening to the news at seven every evening. Did you know that?"

Mutely, he shook his head. But he thought he knew where this must be going and the tension shot through him as his mind raced, trying to find answers before they got to the questions.

"I haven't seen a paper today because I have been too busy attending to you and your lover," Hans continued. "In fact, I have been terribly cut off from the world, thanks to you. So I'm sure you can imagine my shock when I turned on the radio and found that one story and one story alone was on everyone's lips. Can you guess what that was?"

He bit back on the smart answer. That wouldn't help them now. "Yes," he admitted instead.

"Last night, the president's palace was robbed," Hans said heavily. "Countless treasures were stolen. And the police and the military are desperately trying to trace the thieves. Two men. Foreigners. One may be wounded. Does this sound familiar to you?"

Rusty took a deep breath. "With a set up like this, you can't expect me to believe that all your other patients are legitimate."

"Do you have any idea what they will do to me if they suspect me of harbouring you?" Hans demanded furiously. "It will make all the little fun I have been having at your expense look like a nice Sunday afternoon's picnic. I should throw you out onto the street while I still have the chance."

"Look," Rusty said softly. "We're professionals, I won't deny that. And that means we have rules. If one of our contacts..._helps _us," He managed not to choke on the words. "Then no one will ever hear their name for us, no matter what. You saved Danny's life, that means I'm gonna do my best to keep you safe. But if you fuck us over I swear not only will they know exactly where to find you, I'll swear blind you've been working with us for years."

That would depend on Rusty being in a position to talk. He watched the thought cross Hans' face. That was okay though. That had just been the stick. The carrot was so much more. (_So much worse._)

"Besides," he went on, his voice dropping down to something low and breathy. "You were saying earlier I have a talented mouth. If you let us go now, you'll never know just how talented. And that would be a terrible shame, don't you think?" He walked slowly over to Hans, letting his mouth curve his hips sway. "I'm really _very _good," he murmured, rubbing his body up against Hans and gently sliding down, making sure to press himself against all the right spots. "I can take you places you've never even imagined. Mmmm." He ended in breathy, needy moan; on his knees and looking up at Hans through his eyelashes. "You interested?" he asked, and that was rhetorical, cos Hans' interest was staring him right in the face. "I can even beg you for it, if you like. Please. Please, let me suck your cock. I _want _it. I need it. Let me...fellate you."

He caught the gleam in Hans eyes at his choice of words and smiled grimly to himself. Easy. And _necessary, _Danny.

Of course, he knew damned well that Hans didn't think for a second that he actually wanted this. But the sick bastard would get off on watching Rusty demean himself this way. And meanwhile he was completely focused on his dick and he was doing what Rusty suggested, and in the right light, if he squinted, Rusty could tell himself that meant he was in control here.

"_Please,_" he said one more time, clasping his hands submissively behind his back.

Hans looked at him benevolently. "Very well."

He'd given himself a lot of build up here. He had a hell of a lot to live up to, and he couldn't afford to fail.

(_The last time he'd been this nervous about a blowjob had been the first time with Danny..._)

He used every trick he'd ever learned. Did things with his mouth and tongue that had Hans gasping and moaning and grabbing Rusty's hair for support. (_All the things that made Danny gasp and moan and hold him – no!_)

This time it was him that insisted on eye contact, keeping careful track of what he was doing and how Hans was reacting, and he tried to keep the wanton begging alive in his eyes, but he could feel the shame and self-disgust creep in, and Hans let out a bellow and said something filthy in German, and Rusty's mouth was flooded with salt and slime.

"If you love him, you'll swallow it," Hans said sweetly.

Rusty swallowed it down and didn't taste a thing.

Hans' fingers stayed tangled in his hair. "Well," he said sedately. "That was certainly a revelation. Thank you, tough boy. You may do that whenever you wish."

Which would be whenever Hans suggested it. He only hoped he wouldn't have to beg every time.

"I think," Hans went on, carding his fingers through Rusty's hair affectionately. "That this would be an appropriate time to discuss my payment." Rusty breathed a sigh of relief. It had worked. "My normal fee for this kind of operation is ten thousand dollars. I will charge an additional thousand dollars per day for room and board."

Rusty stayed on his knees and looked up at him. "Half the fee now, and half when we leave," he suggested. "And I'll settle up our hotel bill then too."

Hans' lips quirked appreciatively. "Very well," he agreed and stepped back, letting Rusty go get his money.

A good thing they'd taken payment for the job via wire transfer. If Hans could get his hands on what he deemed enough money immediately, their position would be even more precarious.

"There you go," he said, giving him the bills. He was left with $1500, which he could maybe tempt Hans with in a pinch... Fuck. Who was he kidding? It wasn't going to be his money he was bribing Hans with from now on.

"Thank you," Hans said. "In the circumstances, I do not believe I will give you a receipt." He laughed to himself. "It isn't often I get a blowjob like that and then the boy pays _me,_" he said, like it was a great joke.

No. Rusty imagined not.

His every nerve was strained to breaking point, and in his mind he could feel Danny's eyes on the back of his neck, shocked and hurt and betrayed.

"Goodnight, then," Hans said, when it was obvious he wasn't going to react.

"Goodnight," Rusty echoed, leaning in automatically for the expected kiss.

Hans shoved him away playfully. "I think _not," _he said decidedly. "Not when I know where you have been. Tomorrow, I will bring you down some mouthwash and then we will see."

He could feel the flush of shame rise in his cheeks. He watched in silence as Hans left and then sank to the floor next to Danny. This time he didn't even try to wash the taste away. It was always going to be part of him now, no matter what.

"You know," he said dully, to the silence-that-was-Danny. "It was never that I didn't love you. We both said we wanted to keep this..._us..._to ourselves, cos it was no one else's business, but there was a part of you that wanted to shout it from the rooftops I know. And I didn't even want to tell Saul. Don't pretend that didn't hurt you." His hands were covering his face. His fingernails raked deep into his skin. "I was always afraid that eventually we'd realise you wanted something I can't give you."

He looked up slowly. "Why me, Danny? And don't say it's all about love, cos we already had that, and right now I'm talking about sex. All the emotional connection in the world won't work if there isn't a physical attraction as well. And you like _women, _Danny." Women and him, because it wasn't like he could deny the evidence. The physical attraction had very much been there; Danny wanted his body. Him. He understood how Danny felt, he just wasn't sure why_, _and somehow that mattered. "Maybe I'm just that fuckable," he said wryly, and he laughed only it wasn't funny.

He let his head fall back onto the hard tile with a thump. It was cold, or at least he was shivering. "We were home right now, I'd be lying on the sofa with a blanket," he told Danny. "You'd be beside me. We'd have a tub of chocolate ice cream between us, and we'd be watching Ghostbusters, and you'd be quoting all the best bits a second before we got to them until I got pissed and recited the whole thing until you took my spoon to shut me up and...and..."

He imagined Danny, whole and happy and healthy.

He pretended the tears weren't falling.

* * *

><p><em>There was a spectacular view of the city out through the window behind them. The bright lights were reflected in the water like so much starlight. <em>

_Right now, with Danny sitting on the bed above him, the view was the last thing Rusty was thinking about. "We could be about to ruin a beautiful friendship," he said lightly. _

"_Oh, I'm sure you can't be _that _bad," Danny grinned, but his eyes were reminding Rusty that it wasn't too late to back out, that it was _never _too late to back out, that 'no' was always an option...only, no _wasn't _an option anymore and Rusty couldn't remember why. _

_He leaned forwards and his tongue flicked out teasingly. Above him Danny gasped and it was easy to just lean forwards and get to work. He used every trick he'd ever learned, did things with his mouth and tongue that had Danny gasping and moaning and clutching Rusty's shoulder for support, except now Danny's hand was wrapped in his hair as well, pulling just a little too hard to be comfortable, and that wasn't _right.

_Danny jerked suddenly and a second later Rusty's mouth was filled with bitter salt. _

"_Sorry," Danny said, sounding startled. _

_Rusty grinned and reached for the tissues. _

"_If you loved me, you'd swallow it," Danny said angrily, and when Rusty looked up, Danny's eyes were shocked and hurt and betrayed. _

_This wasn't right. This wasn't the way it had happened. He swallowed and it tasted like submission and razor blades, and Danny still wasn't satisfied and Rusty remembered what came next and it wasn't..._he _wasn't..._

* * *

><p>He woke with a shout, his arms pushed out defensively, and he looked around wildly, bile coating his throat.<p>

Danny was still lying there. Still hurt, still paralysed and barely alive, and Rusty remembered his dream with a shudder.

It was just a dream. Nothing more. Except some of it had been real, obviously. Most of it. He sat up, his fingers digging deep into his arms, as he struggled to tear reality from nightmare. It hadn't been like that. That had been one of the best nights of his life, and it had been about the pleasure of giving pleasure, not...not _that. _And Danny sure as hell hadn't told him to swallow like that.

Except...except he had swallowed. That time and most times after. And he didn't usually. He swallowed, and Danny _liked _it. He could remember the dark heat in Danny's eyes as he watched. Not that Danny had actually asked him to...but he did it because he wanted to make Danny happy, didn't he? So Danny wouldn't have been as happy if he didn't. Had there been any other reason? Fuck, did it matter if there _was? _

He just didn't know anymore. Nothing felt the way it should. He watched Danny sleep and tried to remember the way Danny had looked at him.


	5. I would like your pleasure

**A/N: No, this fic doesn't get any nicer. Sorry about that.**

* * *

><p>Hans came downstairs early the next morning dressed ridiculously in a long nightshirt and sporting prominent morning wood. "Would you like to take care of this for me?" he asked, smiling between the yawns, and Rusty got down on his knees without a word.<p>

After he'd come, thrusting lazily into Rusty's mouth, he vanished for half an hour or so, and reappeared with the promised mouthwash and two cooked breakfasts he insisted they ate together. It felt like payment. It tasted like ash.

Just like Hans had said, they spent the first part of the morning moving Danny onto the bed. It took well over an hour of Hans' detailed and patient instructions, and attaching Danny to boards and hard collars and straps until Danny couldn't move if he tried. Which was the point, he supposed. And then there was half an hour or so of watching Hans fussing around the wires and tubes, making sure that nothing had come unattached.

"There," Hans said when he was done at last. "And now he will need to be kept prone on bed rest like that for several weeks."

Several weeks. He felt his heat clench. "Can you be more specific?" he asked.

"We shall see," Hans said with an evasive shrug.

Of course. And he wasn't even sure whether Hans was thinking of kicking them out early...or keeping them. "Should he really be on his back like that?" he asked doubtfully, changing the subject. "His weight must be pressing on the wound."

"I made sure it was well dressed," Hans promised comfortingly. "Is it the most comfortable position for him to be in? No. The best for his spine? Oh, yes. You do _want _Danny to get better, don't you?"

"Of course, I - " He froze as he registered the name. How did...oh. Oh, fuck, he'd used it last night, hadn't he? Damnit, he hadn't meant to give Hans their names. "Of course I do," he finished evenly.

"Well then we are in agreement," Hans said cheerfully. "His vital signs have remained pleasingly steady. I believe I would like to try extubating him now. We shall see how well he manages on his own for a while. And I am also reducing his sedation. In a few hours we will know whether he is completely paralysed at least. This is a critical time so I will stay down here for now. I trust you will not mind having a room mate?"

"Whatever Danny needs," Rusty agreed stiffly. It wasn't as if he could complain about Hans actually acting like a doctor.

"Very good," Hans beamed. "Now, how will we occupy ourselves during our vigil, mmm?"

Rusty tilted his head. "Got a pack of cards?" he suggested.

Thankfully, letting Hans win at various games kept him distracted for the rest of the morning, barring the inevitable handjob every time he washed his hands to check on Danny.

"You look tired," Hans told him after one of those, gazing at him critically. "There are dark shadows beneath your eyes. I am afraid they ruin your looks some."

He shrugged uncaringly. "I suppose that bothers you."

"I enjoy looking at pretty things," Hans allowed. "But I am speaking as a doctor now. You need to get your rest. Sleep deprivation can be very serious."

Yeah. He didn't exactly think there was much chance of him closing his eyes for eight hours while they were in this hellhole. He ignored Hans and sat on the chair next to Danny's bed, his eyes fixed on Danny's face beneath the oxygen mask. Hans said he'd reduced the sedation, but so far Rusty hadn't seen any difference. Danny was so still he might almost be dead.

"You may touch him, if you wish," Hans said, eyeing him curiously.

He honestly wasn't sure if the innuendo was in Hans' voice or just in his head. It didn't matter though; he took Danny's hand in his and tried his best to pretend he hadn't hesitated.

Hans disappeared again around lunchtime and Rusty took the opportunity to stretch his legs and use the bathroom. He couldn't stand the thought of leaving Hans with Danny on the wrong side of a closed door, but leaving the door _open..._well, that carried it's own set of distasteful possibilities. Of course, hoping that Hans would stay gone long enough for him to take a shower was a non starter, even though he was conscious it had been a couple of days now and the prickling unclean feeling across his skin probably wasn't just in his head. Maybe tonight, when Hans had gone to bed, if he could deal with leaving Danny alone that long.

Mind you, maybe if he didn't wash then Hans would find him less appealing...

No. He wanted to keep Hans' interested so Hans would help Danny.

He made himself another cup of black coffee and sat back by Danny.

Strange, he wasn't exactly afraid of Hans. He felt disgust and dread, coiled deep in his stomach, but fear? Not so much. Like Hans had said, he probably would win in a physical confrontation. The power he had was the power Rusty was _letting _him have.

Sooner or later, Hans was going to want to fuck him. It was inevitable; Rusty was sure. He'd been savouring each new degradation like a man slowly working through some delicious buffet, and by the look in his eyes, he wasn't anywhere near satisfied. So Hans was going to fuck him. If not today then soon and for the rest of their time here, and there was nothing Rusty would do to stop it.

It was going to happen and it was going to be awful, and that meant he had to work on mentally surviving it. He couldn't let it change him. He already felt dirty and wrong and he was struggling to look at Danny like he would have before, and he suspected that was only going to get worse. What he had to do here was remind himself that none of those feelings were real. Convince himself that none of it mattered – because it didn't matter how he felt, not next to Danny – and just shove it all away. He'd always been good at suppressing shit he couldn't deal with. This was no different.

Calm. He could be calm and when Hans came back downstairs twenty minutes carrying a tray with two egg white omelettes, a jug of ice tea, and a large tub of ice cream.

As he set the tray down, Rusty kissed him prettily without being prompted, but his eyes were drawn to the ice cream. It looked cheap and cheerful and out of place.

"Just a little treat for after lunch," Hans smiled. "It's not chocolate, I'm afraid, but I'm sure we can make do." He paused fractionally and didn't even bother looking down at the tray. "Oh, how foolish of me. I have forgotten to bring any spoons or bowls."

"Careless," Rusty agreed dryly.

Hans smiled brightly. "Ah, well, never mind. I'm sure we'll think of something."

Of course, Hans did think of something. Rusty had never hated the taste of ice cream so much. But it didn't matter, because after lunch, Hans drew the sheet up from Danny's feet and legs and started checking reflexes and muscle movement, jabbing Danny's feet with pins to watch him react, and with each test, the crease in his forehead slowly smoothed out.

"This is very good indeed," he declared happily. "It appears your lover has retained a full range of involuntary movement. Now, that does not mean there is no damage at all, and likely he will struggle to gain full control for some time, if he ever fully regains it, but this is very good. You can be happy."

He was. In fact he smiled at Hans, bright and vivid and beautiful, like he had just heard the best news in the world. The prospect of Danny spending the rest of his life in some little dark room, just got further away. What else mattered?

* * *

><p>Rusty awoke struggling to shake off the heaviness of sleep, certain that something, somehow, was very wrong. Sluggishly blinking past the headache, he looked round himself, trying to get his bearings, make sense of his surroundings. He was still in that basement, still slouched in the uncomfortable chair next to Danny's bed only...only...<p>

Only now the sheet had been removed entirely leaving Danny exposed and naked and Hans was standing by the head of the bed, his pants pooled around his ankles, and one hand was tracing circles on Danny's chest, and the oxygen mask was lying abandoned on the bed and Hans was rubbing his cock over Danny's mouth, pressing it into Danny's lips.

With a scream, Rusty launched himself across the room, shoving Hans as hard as he could – away! Away from Danny – and he threw him up against the wall, ready to punch and keep punching until the man was reduced to a bloody smear.

"Look down," Hans choked out as Rusty drew his fist back and there was something in his voice...

He looked. There was a syringe in Hans' hand, the needle pressed against Rusty's inner thigh. He froze, carefully not moving a muscle.

"That's an extremely powerful muscle relaxant pointed straight at your femoral artery, tough boy," Hans told him, gradually recovering his poise. "I started carrying it when I realised just how much you wanted to hurt me. It is not the only means I have to deal with you but it is among the most enjoyable. All I have to do is press my thumb a very little and soon you will be completely unable to do anything except lie there and drool on yourself. You will be aware though. And I will be sure to prop you up to watch as I enjoy all the amenities your lover has to offer."

"No!" The strangled protest burst out of him. Oh, fuck, no. Not that. Never that.

"You do not like the sound of that?" Hans asked, a satisfied little smile playing around his lips. "I think it sounds rather fun. Your lover has a very nice body. His skin is delightfully warm and supple. It makes me long to sink my teeth into him."

"Don't touch Danny," Rusty said harshly. "I'll do anything you want, only _don't touch Danny._"

"You were asleep," Hans explained beautifully. "I began to feel sexually aroused and I did not want to wake you. As I said, you need your rest."

Somehow, sometime soon, Rusty was going to find a way to kill him.

"You still need me," Hans reminded him quickly. "Unless you managed to get your training in neurosurgery while you were snoring?"

They still needed him. And even though he'd _violated _Danny, even though he'd...Rusty was going to need to carry on letting him treat Danny and examine him. He took a deep breath, fighting for the pretence of calm. "You even look at him again any way I don't find appropriate, I am going to cut your balls off," he said levelly. "You don't need them to practice medicine."

Hans smiled, unaffected. "And what if I_ don't _touch Danny?" he murmured. "What will you give me if I promise that from now on, as far as Danny is concerned, I shall be the perfect professional?"

He hesitated, not because the question was difficult – he was already resigned to the answer, after all – but because he was searching Hans' face, trying to figure out if he could be trusted to keep his word. He thought maybe, yes. Hans would probably enjoy holding this bargain over Rusty's head. There were far too many 'maybes' and 'perhaps' in that. Although Hans had to know that if he _did _go after Danny again, Rusty would not forgive a second time. Not that he was forgiving now. No forgiving and no forgetting. But still - "Anything," he promised levelly.

The smile slowly crept across Hans' face. Then why don't you lower your fists and I will lower my syringe and we will explore that together," he suggested.

Rusty backed off, knowing he had failed Danny in the worst possible way. His heart was still pounding against his chest. Oh, fuck, how had he let this happen? Why had he fallen asleep?...He caught his breath. Why _had _he fallen asleep? His mouth was dry. "Did you drug me?" he asked, involuntarily. He remembered eating the food Hans had prepared, and none of it had tasted off, but how could he be certain?

Hans laughed a little as he pulled his pants up. "Is that what you want to think?" he asked. "Is it so much easier to blame me, than to think that maybe you lost control of yourself and fell asleep, and Danny paid the price for it?"

That wasn't an answer. But then, why would he ever expect one?

Hans stared him down for a long moment before he slid the cap back on the syringe and then carefully turned away so Rusty couldn't see where he put it. Damn.

Not that it really mattered. He had agreed to this. He'd known it was coming, and he'd agreed to it, and now all there was to do was lie back and think of nothing. "So how do you want to do this?" he asked abruptly, and he gritted his teeth at Hans' enquiring eyebrow. "I mean, we've got the other bed over there, do you want me on my back or..." He trailed off as the Hans smiled knowingly.

"Ah, you are thinking of anal intercourse," he said cheerfully. "Now, that is a lovely offer and I am sure I would enjoy you immensely. But I'm afraid that is not what I have in mind for now."

Caught off guard, Rusty blinked at him stupidly. "Then what do you want?"

"I would like your pleasure," Hans said serenely.

Rusty stared. His mouth was dry. "W-what?" he asked, and he couldn't stand hearing his own voice stutter.

"I should like your pleasure," Hans repeated. "You were very keen last night to tell me that you wanted my penis. And yet I was disappointed to see that when I let you have it, you remained flaccid and unaroused. From now on, whenever you have my penis in your mouth, I expect to see you erect and masturbating."

Every thought in Rusty's head came to a crashing stop. All he could do was stare and try to make sense of the words. Hans wanted him to...he was going to have to...he _couldn't_.

"Of course, if you find this impossible to comply with," Hans went on, eyes gleaming, "I can always go back and see how accommodating Danny can be...?"

No. Not that. He'd said anything and he'd meant it. He'd just never imagined _this. _How could he even...

His eyes flickered over to Danny. Still lying exposed and oblivious.

He swallowed hard. "Please," he said hoarsely. "Let me get Danny cleaned up first. Then I'm all yours. All of me."

"Very well," Hans agreed with unexpected gentleness. "I will give you a few moments to take care of him."

Stiff-legged, he walked over to the bed. He didn't know if it was his imagination, but Danny looked less peaceful than before. He took a sponge and some hot water and carefully dabbed it over Danny's lips before replacing the oxygen mask. Then he gently washed Danny's chest – anywhere Hans had touched. "Sorry," he whispered helplessly. He'd let this happen. He should have been protecting Danny, but he'd fallen asleep and Danny had suffered for it.

"You might want to clean his hair," Hans called. "I am afraid I left a lot of mess there."

In silent horror, Rusty crept round to the other side of the bed and caught sight of the sticky clump of goo caked in Danny's hair.

"You were asleep a very long time," Hans said unrepentantly. "And his hair is lovely and soft."

Rusty heard the low keen of agony. He just didn't want to admit he was the one who'd made it.

He washed Danny's hair as best he could with what he had on hand. Not easy when he couldn't move Danny's head, and he didn't dare walk into the bathroom to fetch the shampoo. Even after he couldn't see it anymore, he could see where it – where _Hans –_ had been. (_He wondered if either of them would ever come truly clean._)

Hans started humming tunelessly somewhere behind him. Rusty closed his eyes. "I have to do this," he told Danny in a fierce whisper. "I'm sorry. I need to keep you safe." It wasn't enough. It wasn't anything like enough, not for what he was doing. He stooped and hastily planted a chaste kiss on Danny's forehead. "I'm _sorry,_" he said again unsteadily before turning away and pointedly drawing the drapes around Danny's bed.

Hans didn't say a word.

Even though it seemed impossible, Rusty couldn't bear the thought that Danny might open his eyes and _see. _(_And he couldn't look at Danny._)

"All ready?" Hans asked rhetorically. "I can promise you, _I _am."

Yeah, Rusty could see that. He walked back over to Hans. Every step was an impossible struggle.

"I think," Hans mused, tapping his fingers thoughtfully against his chin. "I think I would like it if you took your shirt off again. And please, lower your trousers and your underwear. I want to see as much as possible."

Wordless, Rusty obeyed.

Hans sighed appreciatively. "You really are _very _beautiful," he said. "I hope Danny tells you so often."

"Can we get this over with?" Rusty asked abruptly.

"No, no," Hans chided. "This is something to be _savoured. _Now. Get down on your knees and please enjoy yourself."

All his instincts were screaming at him to run or fight or do _anything _but submit. _This is for Danny,_ he reminded himself. _Anything, remember? _

Still, he stayed on his knees a couple of moments too long, not quite able to bring himself to do what needed to be done.

"I am waiting," Hans reminded him patiently.

Rusty looked up at him. "I..." He wasn't sure what he wanted to say. He wasn't going to plead. Wasn't going to beg Hans not to make him do this. But his fingernails were biting deep into his palms, and he didn't know that he could physically _do _this.

Hans looked down at him kindly. "I do not demand that you achieve orgasm," he said. "However, I expect you to reach erection. You can do that for me, can't you?"

He didn't have a choice.

This was a nightmare. Even though it disgusted him, he tried to concentrate on the taste and feeling of the cock in his mouth, ignoring the mechanical motion of his own hand like it wasn't attached to him, trying to pretend that he couldn't feel his dick twitch with interest. If he could just please Hans enough, if he could just make him come, then this would all be over. _Please. _

Hans was staring down with a delighted little smile on his face. "Faster, please," he said. "And harder. You do not need to be afraid of breaking your penis you know."

His hand sped up. The warmth pooled in his groin. His mouth stayed busy. This was a nightmare.

"Reach up with your other hand and pinch your nipples for me, please," Hans requested breathlessly, after another few moments. "Pull on them. Oh, that's right. That's very good."

There were tears running down his cheeks. Desperately, he worked his lips and his tongue, horrorstruck to realise that his hand had automatically fallen into a familiar matching rhythm. This was a nightmare. This was _hell._

It seemed an eternity before Hans finally came, spilling into Rusty's mouth with a satisfied groan.

Rusty stumbled to his feet immediately, not even caring that Hans was watching as he dragged his pants up, forcing them over his erection like it didn't even exist. He was almost completely hard. It was obscene. It was so fucking _wrong. _(_He was so fucking wrong._) He felt ashamed in a way he never had before in his life.

(_Danny. I'm so, so sorry. Please. Forgive me._)

"Do you know," Hans said, with a little friendly laugh. "I do not know that I have ever seen a man achieve an erection so easily while sucking on another man's penis. I do believe that you secretly enjoy submitting like this."

He shook his head dumbly, not able to speak for a moment. No. No, he didn't. This wasn't him. He took a deep breath and willed away the taste in his mouth and his shame and he looked Hans straight in the eye. "Do you always make your prostitutes jerk off while they blow you?" he asked. "Must make it easier to pretend they're into you, huh." He smiled coldly and let the full weight of his contempt show in his eyes. "You disgust me," he said in a low voice. "You disgust everyone who sees you. If you weren't blackmailing me into it, I wouldn't let you lay so much as a finger on me. When was the last time someone touched you because they _wanted _to? Do you even remember?"

For a moment, as rage darkened Hans' eyes, he thought he might be about to get slapped in the face. But then the anger slowly froze over and Hans smiled again. "Really, what does all this defiance get you, tough boy?" he scolded. "But, as long as we are exchanging truths, let me ask you this. You said you and your lover work together, is that correct? You are jolly thieves, stealing together and that is all very nice. But that suggests to me that you were friends first, yes? So, do you think your are star-crossed lovers, or do you think you are simply convenient for him? His friend, his partner, an easy set of holes at the end of the day, so he doesn't have to go looking for anyone else."

Rusty made himself laugh, promising that none of this _mattered. _"Danny loves me," he said matter-of-factly.

"Yes, perhaps," Hans nodded. "But we were talking about sex, not love. It is not the same, after all."

And that sounded so much like the doubts that whispered to him late at night, that he couldn't hide the flinch. "We're happy together," he insisted, and ignored the nagging thought that they _had _been happy together.

Hans shrugged. "You are the easy option," he said matter-of-factly. "Are you really so certain that he will not leave you when someone else comes along?"

Oh, yes. It wasn't in Danny to be unfaithful. (_That was where the real problem lay, after all._) But Hans shouldn't have truth, and he walked away, walked back to Danny and drew the drapes away. If he didn't look at Danny's face, he could pretend he didn't see the accusation.

After a few moments, he heard Hans leave. The adrenaline left and the shame came flooding back.

He sat on the floor by Danny's bed, his hand outstretched above his head, resting beside Danny's. "'m sorry," he said, small and low and miserable. "I'm sorry I let him hurt you. I'm sorry I...I..._enjoyed _it. Oh, fuck, Danny, I'm _sorry." _

The sobs tore helplessly through him.

After a moment, he felt Danny's fingers twitch around his.

* * *

><p>Danny was alone. He was running, or trying to run, trapped beneath a sea of dark fog and desperately looking for something, but he couldn't remember what. He needed to get out of here, where ever here was, because Rusty was out there somewhere, and Rusty was in pain and Rusty <em>needed <em>him.

He ran. He was alone.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hey, if you're reading this, please take a sec to let me know what you think. :)**


	6. Do you want me to submit?

**A/N: Sorry this has taken a while...I've been ill, and Bioware have been taking over my life again. :)**_  
><em>

* * *

><p>Over the next few days, Danny slowly drifted closer to consciousness. So far there had been no point when Rusty would have been happy to say he was <em>aware, <em>but he was restless now, not as still. It had to be a step in the right direction, but when Danny's face twisted – in fear or pain – Rusty had to wonder if keeping him completely comatose would have been the right thing to do.

Truth was he didn't know and had no way of finding out. When you don't trust your doctor and can't get a second opinion, options are sorta limited.

Hans did seem pleased with Danny's progress though. He diligently took a whole range of notes and measurements and nodded happily at them. Rusty constantly asked him for updates, naturally, but he didn't know how much he could believe. Danny did seem to be improving. Medically, Hans hadn't steered him wrong yet as far as he could tell. He had to cling to that.

Didn't mean he was content to sit back and do nothing. Careful examination left him certain that he _could _open the door, but he wasn't going to be able to close it again without it being obvious he'd snuck out. He kinda got the feeling Hans wouldn't appreciate that. Not that it mattered right now, he wasn't planning on going to contact Bobby until closer to the time he was planning on getting Danny out of here...even if the thought of Bobby riding in like the cavalry made his heart leap. Still, if he was planning on breaking out of here at some point, he needed to have a good idea of Hans' schedule, because if he wasn't here, Danny would be alone, and Rusty had no idea how far he might have to go to find a phone. Even if there was one in the house, using it seemed potentially dangerous.

Took him a few attempts, but he found the perfect place to perch on the counter with Hans' stethoscope and listen through the walls to the floor above. All he really had was the hallway and, he thought, the kitchen. But he could hear the front door opening and closing, and after three or four days, he felt reasonably confident that Hans went out at ten every morning and didn't return till a bit after noon. Everything else seemed random, but that...that he hoped he could rely on.

Of course, it didn't do him any damned good with his present situation. Hans continued to disgust. Kisses, handjobs, blowjobs...his life had descended into an irregular routine of casual sex acts, and he had no way of saying no. And now, with each time he wrapped his mouth around Hans' cock, he was expected to paw at himself. It disgusted him. _He _disgusted him. And every time he could picture the look in Danny's eyes and he felt like dying.

The desire to take a shower grew irresistible. In the dead of night, when he could be certain Hans was safely asleep upstairs, he'd stand beneath the scalding hot water and wish himself clean. If no other form of defiance was available to him, at least he must be making one hell of a dent in Hans' hot water supply.

Hans brought him more toiletries, an electric razor, fresh clothes...plain shirts,cheap pants and a selection of silk briefs, all just on what Hans would probably call the right side of too tight. He didn't want to wear them, but he didn't want to be stuck in the same filthy clothes either. Whatever he did, he felt dirty.

Often, especially when he heard Hans' footsteps on the stairs, he thought longingly of securing a weapon. There were sharp knives and strong drugs in here, and he'd be happy to use either on Hans. But not only did Hans keep them locked up, he kept the cases so ordered that Rusty had no doubt he'd be able to tell if something was missing at a glance, and that wouldn't end well at all. The locks were pickable though. If it came to it, he could arm himself. And, just in he didn't have time, he broke a plastic beaker and picked out the sharpest shard to hide away in his pocket. Unlikely it would make an effective weapon, but it made him feel just a fraction better.

And all that was nothing next to the long hours he spent at Danny's bedside, holding his hand and talking to him, still hoping that his voice got through. It didn't seem to make a difference to the restlessness, but Danny had always found it a comfort before so maybe somehow, somewhere...

He told old stories and jokes, dragged up memories from his childhood that he hadn't got around to sharing with Danny before, recited books he'd read once upon a time. He avoided anything overtly sentimental. Right now that would feel too much like saying goodbye.

And still Danny didn't open his eyes.

There was a small part of Rusty – the part that wasn't lonely and scared and screaming – which was almost glad of that. It was all too easy to imagine Danny opening his eyes to see him degrading himself, and the thing about them being together was that even if he could somehow convince Danny that he was a completely willing participant, it would still crush Danny.

The lie was still so much better than the truth.

"Well, we never actually said we were exclusive," he tried, looking straight at Danny's closed eyes. But his tongue stumbled over the words, and even to his own ears, in their secret language, it sounded like _Danny. Please. Make it stop. _

He gritted his teeth. It wasn't important. It didn't _matter. _All that mattered was that Danny woke up. He could figure out how to hide everything from Danny when that happened.

"Come back to me," he whispered, as he had done a hundred times over the past week. "Please."

* * *

><p>There was something keeping Danny trapped and he couldn't escape it. He was a prisoner in some sea of nothingness, not able to talk or move or <em>think, <em>just a collection of flickering memories and flashes of awareness. In the distance, far above him, he could sense an immense wall of pain bearing down on him. He knew he had to break through it, but again and again he tried and shied away, the agony too massive to contemplate. Felt like nothing on earth, like fire burning away his bones.

From time to time he heard voices struggling through the fog. He couldn't make out the words, but sometimes he knew it was Rusty and he fought to break free, because Rusty needed him and there was something he needed to tell Rusty, something important if he could only remember what it was...

* * *

><p>Rusty woke shaking and clammy with sweat from a nightmare he couldn't quite remember. Instinctively, he looked across to Danny, unconscious and unmoving in the other bed. Safe. At least for the moment. He'd opened his eyes a couple of times in the last day or two, but he hadn't seemed to see anything. Certainly not Rusty. Definitely not Hans.<p>

Hans. With sudden spasm of fear, he checked his watch. Just before midnight. Hans had come down to check on Danny around ten, and he probably wouldn't be back until two. He still had a couple of hours before he'd have to...have to...

Shivering, he sat up, huddling back against the edge of the bed, his arms wrapped tight around his chest. He didn't have to remember the nightmare to know that it hadn't been so different from reality. Truthfully, he hadn't expected this to be so hard. Heh. He bared his teeth humourlessly. No pun intended.

He hadn't had to come yet, but it was only a matter of time. Hans continued to expect regular blow jobs, and every time he found ways of stretching the whole thing out until Rusty was near desperation. He knew it too. Hell, he _enjoyed _it, and that knowing smile and the self-satisfied moan were as good as a cold shower. So far, self-control and self-disgust had kept him from plummeting over the edge, but that couldn't last forever. He was growing to hate his own body.

Thing was, the very idea of orgasm was becoming horror in his head. When Hans had first asked him to jerk off the very idea had been nightmarish and impossible. Unthinkable. Now that it was feeling inevitable, it was somehow so much worse. If it wasn't for Danny, he might just rather die.

But it was all for Danny. That was what he had to remember, except while he was...fuck. As long as his hand was around his dick, Danny was the last thing he should be remembering. He wanted to keep Danny as clean of this as possible.

And really, all Hans had to do was tell – _ask –_ him to jerk off to completion. Not like he'd be able to say no; the threat was clearly understood by both of them. But somehow, he wasn't going to do that. Self control and self disgust. That was what this was about and Hans was enjoying watching his control slip and his disgust grow. He hadn't said as much, but Hans wanted it to happen naturally.

And in the meantime, he was having fun. Each time after he'd come in Rusty's mouth and he looked down with that damnable smile at Rusty's dick, he asked "Are you sure you would not like to orgasm?"

He always said no, and then would come the little suggestion as to what they could do instead and gradually, gradually, step by step, Rusty was selling his soul. Oh, the suggestions started off if not innocuous then at least harmless;

"_I should like to give you a hickey._"

"_I should like you to kiss my shoes." _

"_I should like to put my tongue in your ear._"

He had acquiesced easily enough. Too easily, he admitted bitterly but all that had seemed so much easier than the alternative. And he'd always known things would escalate.

"_I need pictures of erect male genitalia for an article I am writing for a medical journal," Hans said as if it was the simplest thing on earth. "I should like to use yours. Do not worry, it shall be entirely anonymous. After all, I will not be photographing your face._"

And Rusty had hesitated and hated, but in the end it had felt like just another price to pay, and he'd lain down and let Hans take his pictures from every angle imaginable, and by the time they were done he was all but flaccid anyway.

It was awful. And then the next time it was "_I should like to ejaculate on your face, and I would prefer it if you do not clean it off for the rest of the day." _and that had been...but he'd borne it – for Danny, even if he couldn't even _look _at Danny – and then after that it had been Hans toying wistfully with a couple of surgical clamps. _"I should like to attach these to your nipples." _

It had hurt like nothing else. The scream had been ripped from his throat, and he'd had to force his hands over his mouth to make it stop. His legs had been trembling...he hadn't been able to hold still...and Hans had been standing there, watching with obvious pleasure. "I _thought _they'd be sensitive," he said with soft delight.

Twelve hours later and he was still bruised and bloody, and he'd had to leave his shirt hanging open to keep the material from rubbing against his chest. Left him uncomfortable though. Hans liked it too much.

At least the pain helped counter the arousal. The last time, he'd barely managed to get hard at all, and that was a blessing, because he hated the feeling, hated the way it didn't completely fade after Hans left, no matter what he did. It lingered, below the surface, ready to bubble up and tear him down all over again.

Two more hours. Oh, fuck.

He looked at Danny and tried to think of something to say. It was getting more difficult. Talking. Looking at Danny. Touching him. More and more, those feelings of filth and worthlessness threatened to overwhelm him, until it seemed like he didn't deserve to even be _near _Danny, like just Rusty's presence was somehow contaminating everything good in the world.

(_Right now, Danny was _all _that was good in the world._)

But Danny didn't know that, and Danny wouldn't agree, and Danny needed the comfort...and besides, he scrubbed his hands raw with near boiling water and harsh soap after each assignation. If only he could scour his soul so easily.

A grimace of pain or discomfort passed over Danny's face and he shifted his head the bare few inches he could, struggling to move.

"Hey, hey," Rusty said softly, immediately leaning forwards and smoothing his hand across Danny's cheek. "You're safe, okay? But you need to lie still. 's okay. It's going to be okay."

The words were meaningless enough, but Danny turned his head back towards Rusty, and his eyelids flickered, and for a moment Rusty held his breath, hoping _hoping..._

But Danny's face went slack and, disappointed, Rusty sat back.

What would he do if Hans was lying? What would he do if the operation hadn't been a success? It wasn't the first time the thought had tormented him. He supposed in the short term his plans wouldn't change too much. It would still be about getting away from Hans and getting back state side. Just that after that, he'd need to find a proper hospital and get Danny the medical attention he should have had all along. That was what he should have done in the first place. He should have found some way of getting them back home the night Danny was shot. Except Danny had been bleeding, and he'd known he should be minimising movement, and people had been looking for them and the local option had seemed so much safer. Safer. Yeah. Hindsight is always 20/20.

Besides. He really didn't know that Hans was lying to him. He'd seen Danny's feet move for himself. But he didn't know for sure what that meant, and Danny wasn't waking up.

He sighed. How long should he give it before deciding?

Reaching out, he brushed the hair away from Danny's forehead. It was cold and clammy. "You ever wonder where we'd be if we'd never met?" he asked softly. "Anywhere but here, I guess." He rubbed his hand across his lips. "Can't imagine either of us would have gone legit. Guess I'd be working the con somewhere. Keeping moving. Keeping everything nice and superficial, the way I always used to. And without you, everything would be less..." He shrugged. "Without you, everything would be less." Glancing at his watch, he bit his lip. Time was slipping away. "Whatever happens with Hans, it doesn't mean anything, okay? I know how much you'd hate what I'm doing, but it's not the end of the world. I can deal with it. Really, Danny."

He didn't know when that had started to sound so much like a lie. Funny. He'd said he wasn't afraid. Keeping his eyes fixed on Danny, and not even glancing at the door and the stairs, he clenched his fists tight and waited.

* * *

><p>The sun was pouring in from the skylight above him, almost blinding him when he woke up. He didn't know how long he'd slept but he felt tired and heavy and his mind was filled with fog. He was alone, so Rusty must already be up, and he smiled when he heard voices coming from somewhere else in the hotel room. The TV was on. "Rusty," he called, figuring he'd see if there was an espresso machine anywhere in this place. His voice sounded strange and far away.<p>

Footsteps echoed through his head, and then Rusty was standing over him, looking down at him with a strange expression on his face. There was cream around his mouth and Danny grinned. "Ice cream for breakfast?" he slurred giddily.

Rusty said something in some language he didn't understand, and on some level Danny knew he should be questioning that, but before he could his attention was caught by something more interesting - Rusty's shirt was open to the waist, and Rusty's pants were undone and Danny could see a tantalising glimpse of a hard silk-covered bulge. Now that sounded even better than coffee. "'s that for me?" he asked, reaching out vaguely, but somehow Rusty was just too far away, and even then, he took a teasing step to the side. "Stop moving," he complained grumpily. "Want you." The room was spinning and the man on the TV was laughing and there was a look in Rusty's eyes that he didn't understand...

He closed his eyes and slept again.

* * *

><p>His hands were shaking. He leaned heavily on the sink in the bathroom. The cold water was running and he'd splashed it – <em>everywhere –<em> and it wasn't enough. Arousal and disgust were both still rushing through his veins, and he wasn't even sure he could tell them apart any more. It was...it was _wrong. _Everything was wrong.

Unwillingly, he raised his head and met his reflection's gaze in the mirror. Oh, fuck. The shudder rippled through him as the revulsion grew to a crescendo in his head. His face was flushed and red. His eyes were glassy. His lips, swollen and kissbruised. His hair was damp and there was a sheen across his forehead. Even his chest was rising and falling in time with quick, shallow breaths. Panting.

He looked like a cheap, desperate whore. No wonder Danny had thought he wanted it.

For a moment, he wanted to smash his hands through the mirror, to destroy everything it showed him, to punch and punch, and rake through the broken glass until he was cleansed in blood and pain. But that was selfishness. Danny needed him whole and sane.

He laughed out loud, his voice cracking awfully. Danny _wanted _him.

It hadn't meant anything, no matter what Hans said. So the first time Danny properly woke up, he looked at Rusty and wanted to pick right up where Hans left off. But Danny had been confused. Hallucinating, even. He hadn't understood what was happening, and that didn't mean that Rusty was just a collection of holes to him. But that was what Hans said, after Danny had passed out again, and for some reason, the words clung to him.

(_They weren't supposed to be like that._)

Danny hadn't woken up again in the hours since then. Rusty had sat beside him, talking to him with soft urgency, but even though Danny's eyes had fluttered opened a couple of times, there'd been no sign that he'd been aware of anything around him. He hadn't been able to bring himself to take Danny's hand. He knew he should, but right now, Danny's touch made him feel dirty.

Though truthfully, right now everything made him feel dirty. He wanted to think that he'd spent the day by Danny's bed, but truthfully, he'd spent more of it on his knees in front of Hans. Hans had been downstairs three times in less than two hours, looking for a blowjob each time. And each time it had taken a little longer and he hadn't let Rusty stop jerking off, and he was getting frantic. It was getting harder and harder to hold himself back, and Hans had just smiled at him the last time and said "I will see you in half an hour, tough boy."

Fuck, a man of his age and build? Hans had to be taking Viagra or some shit like that. He'd said so too, and yes, okay, that had been unwise because he'd watched that smile vanish and he'd _known _Hans was thinking up some new hell for him.

Not that he was so sure there could be anything worse than this. Oh, fuck, please, he didn't want to come. Not in front of Hans. And it had crossed his mind that the sensible thing here would be take matters into his own hands, so to speak. To deal with the problem while Hans wasn't there, so that the next time he wouldn't be so close to the edge. Trouble was, just the thought of touching himself made him feel sick now. He couldn't bring himself to do it.

Too damn weak. Silently, he walked back through and stood by Danny's bed, and sure enough, he heard the door open five minutes before they'd reached the half hour mark. He couldn't help the flinch at the footsteps on the stairs.

Hans at least had the courtesy to check Danny over before they got down to business, or pleasure, or whatever Hans thought this was. Rusty's body responded frighteningly quickly, already swimming in whatever fucked-up chemicals or hormones made him think he _liked _this. He wasn't going to last, and he knew it. He tried, as he always did, to ease off, to just pretend to touch, or to touch too roughly, but Hans always spotted it and chided him with all the threat implied, until he started stroking properly. He tried every trick he knew with his lips and tongue, to make this as fast as possible, but Hans was barely starting to harden in his mouth, while he was...he was...

The corners of his eyes were prickling. It was all he could do to keep his hips still. Masturbation as a form of torture, who'd have thought?

It lasted an eternity, and he was long past rational thought when Hans finally came in his mouth with a long, satisfied groan. Rusty tore his hand away immediately, swallowing thankfully. It was over. It was _over, _but his legs were trembling and even the cool air against his groin left him longing to thrust forwards, desperate for some friction, some release. He couldn't stand up. He didn't dare even move.

"Well, look at you," Hans said softly. "That does look _very _uncomfortable." His voice was sweet and mocking. "Are you sure you do not wish to orgasm?"

He shook his hand, speechless.

"Are you sure?" Hans pressed. "I imagine it would feel very satisfying to feel your hand wrapped around your penis right now. Or perhaps you need something more? The warm, wet feeling of your lover's lips, perhaps?"

"No!" he said tersely, hating the way his voice sounded. Breathy. High pitched. Not in control.

"You are _very _hard," Hans commented. "You know, you are quite right about me needing a little chemical assistance. I find I need to work a little harder for my pleasure these days. But as long as you are down here, so easy and accommodating, it is a constant temptation. And do you know, thanks to those little pills, I do believe that if you give me oh, ten minutes or so, I will have enough energy for a further session at least."

Ten minutes. And that wouldn't be..._he _wouldn't be...

"If you truly do not wish to orgasm, you are welcome to go and take a cold shower," Hans offered solicitously. "Do not worry. I will watch Danny for you."

And _that _was never gonna happen. "I'll be fine," he ground out. He closed his mouth tight and tried to set his jaw, but his heart was racing and he felt like he wasn't getting enough air. He needed to stand up. To pull his pants back on and cover himself. Try to claw back some control and dignity, but both were beyond his reach right now and moving still seemed unthinkable.

Hans laughed and leaned past him to the drawers behind, casually pressing his leg achingly close to Rusty's groin. Just a little pressure, a little friction and...he dug his fingernails deeper into his palms. "You know," Hans said conversationally. "I have already confessed I am using the benefits of modern medicine to assist me. It seems only fair to offer you the same."

He blinked dumbly up at Hans, his mind struggling to keep up. "Yeah, I've never had any problems getting it up," he said.

"I can see that," Hans agreed cruelly. "But no. That was not what I had in mind. My sin may be self indulgence but you seem to have your heart...and other parts...set on self denial. I believe I could help with that."

He stepped away at last and Rusty let himself relax a little and, with a wild stab of effort, managed to scramble up, his back against the counter.

But Hans was holding up a sharp syringe, his eyes shining. "Novocaine," he declared joyfully. "A very useful local anaesthetic. With this, you could tug away to your heart's content and never feel a thing. That sounds good, doesn't it?"

It did sound good. He didn't want to feel this anymore. Hell, he didn't want to feel anything ever again, but...but...

"Please let me inject this into your penis," Hans said, not even trying to hide the unholy eagerness from his voice.

Hans was going to enjoy this. He was giving Hans everything he wanted, and yet he knew he didn't have the strength to say no. "Yes," he said, almost inaudibly. He didn't look round at Danny. He tried to pretend that Danny was somewhere far away, somewhere safe, not sleeping mere feet away while Rusty sold his soul.

"That's a good boy," Hans said with tender excitement. "Now, just jump up and sit on the couch there."

Stiff-legged, he walked across the room – past Danny! - and did as he was told.

Hans followed and bent over him, licking his lips eagerly. "I should like you to watch this. Do not look away."

He hadn't been planning on it. He'd agreed to this, and now he was going to play it off like it didn't even bother him. But when he watched – felt – the needle stabbing deep into his already over-sensitive flesh, he could feel the bile rising in his throat, and he bit so hard into his tongue that he tasted blood. Oh, _fuck._

"A couple more, I think," Hans said, his voice hoarse with excitement. "We want to make sure you're properly numbed, don't we?"

They did. Or he did. So he didn't protest when Hans injected him another three times.

"It will take a few minutes to work," Hans said and he stood and they both watched him grow soft. "That should be it," Hans said at last, when it seemed like he just couldn't wait any longer. Swiftly, he leaned down and raked his fingernails hard up Rusty's dick, leaving an angry red mark in his path. Rusty didn't feel a thing. He didn't feel _anything. _

Hans laughed out loud at the look on his face, and amused himself for a few moments, slapping playfully at Rusty's penis.

Rusty let him. It didn't matter. And he tried to ignore the gap in the curtains that would give him a perfect view of Danny's face, if he looked.

Eventually, Hans grew bored of his game and stopped, regarding him benevolently. "After all that excitement, I definitely feel ready for another round. I should thank you, tough boy. You really are a source of endless amusement. And you make me feel so good."

He tried his best to hide the shudder.

Afterwards, as he stood and fastened his pants, trying to ignore how strange he felt, Hans walked back over to the counter and started searching through the drawers again. "Ah!" he exclaimed happily. "Here." He threw something across the room and Rusty caught it automatically.

He looked down. A pack of incontinence pads.

"You will probably wish to wear one of those for the rest of the day," Hans explained delicately, his lips twitching. "In order to avoid any little accidents."

Face flaming, he dropped the pads like they were on fire. When he managed to collect himself enough to look back up, Hans was standing right by Danny's bed, and before Rusty could say anything he ducked and spoke into Danny's ear in a loud stage whisper. "I am afraid you should know that your lover needs his penis numbed in order to keep from humping my leg like a bitch in heat."

"Don't talk to him!" Rusty said furiously. "We had a deal." He moved threateningly towards Hans, and as Hans backed away, he placed himself in front of the bed.

Hans held up his hands mockingly. "I did not touch him," he pointed out. "If you are going to prevent me from speaking to my patient, that could cause us problems. Besides, he cannot hear me. And do you not think he deserves to know?"

Rusty was about to snap that if Danny found out about _this _then Hans would be a dead man walking, but he caught himself in time. If Hans thought Danny was a danger to him, he might quietly dispose of him. Fuck, had Hans managed to numb his brain as well? He dropped his head and affected an expression of guilt and shame and self disgust instead. (_Not exactly a hard reach._) "Please," he said quietly. "Please, don't tell him. This would crush him."

"Very well," Hans said benevolently. "I will stay quiet for my patient's sake. Now, wash your mouth out and come kiss me goodbye. I shall not be back till supper time. We are having baked fish tonight. I do hope you like it."

When Hans was finally gone and Rusty was as sure as he could be that he wouldn't be coming back immediately, he relaxed enough to move away from his protective stance in front of the bed. He didn't spare Danny a glance. He tried not to, immediately after. He supposed it would be different if Danny was awake and healthy. He'd be seeking comfort. (_He just wasn't so sure he _deserved _it anymore.)_

Instead, he vanished into the bathroom and cleaned himself up as best he could. The numbness had spread down his thighs and round his hips. His hands were clumsy too, but he thought that was probably unrelated.

With a disgusted grimace, he put the pad on. It was less humiliating than the alternative, after all. And that was what his life had been reduced to. Choosing the least of humiliations.

This time he carefully managed to avoid his reflection, but he couldn't keep from looking at Danny when he finally walked back out. Even though Danny's eyes were closed, even though Danny had no idea, he couldn't help but see himself through Danny's eyes. And every time he did, he looked _less._

"What he said," he began, as the silence grew unbearable. "It wasn't true. You should know that." He twisted his hands together awkwardly, willing himself to reach out and take Danny's hand. He couldn't do it. Fuck, he was useless. "Might not seem it lately, but I have more self control than that," he said grimly. "I'd have castrated myself first." Dimly, he wondered if that was an option here. But that was just selfishness, like his desire to smash up the bathroom. It would leave him weak and vulnerable, unable to look after Danny. And if – _when _ - Danny got well again, he wouldn't be able to hide that from Danny forever. (_He shivered, remembering the hungry look in Danny's eyes, Danny reaching out to him. Sooner or later, Danny was going to want him._)

"Would you mind," he said abruptly. "If I never blew you again?"

Instantly he pictured the grief and understanding in Danny's eyes at the question, and he waved id aside impatiently.

"I know you would _say _you didn't mind, and I know you wouldn't blame me...but would you _mind?_" He brushed his fingers across his lips and stopped immediately disgusted at the sensation. "'s not like it wouldn't be understandable if you did," he added off-handedly. "You know, I read somewhere that sex problems are a factor in forty percent of break-ups. You can say that it doesn't matter, but eventually...?" He shrugged. "It does. Sex might not be the be all and end all, but it's not nothing either. People get ground down."

He sighed and closed his eyes, rubbing tiredly at this forehead. The awful numbness in his groin sickened him with each little movement.

"I don't want to talk about it," he said irritably. "What he did."

In his head, Danny's eyes were horrified and heartsick and more than a little reproachful.

"What I let him – _asked _him to do," he corrected himself bitterly. "It's better than the alternative."

Danny-in-his-head wasn't convinced. He was giving Hans everything he wanted. Submitting to him in a way that disgusted both of them.

"What, you think me spilling over the floor would be any fucking better?" he demanded in a harsh whisper. "I can't do that, Danny. I can't...but I will." He raised his chin and looked straight at Danny. "There _is _no line. There is nothing I would not let him do to me if I thought it would help you," he promised Danny fiercely. "Nothing." That was what he had to remember. No matter how it felt, it was worth it.

He sat for a moment, breathing hard, trying to get past the ache in his chest. He hated feeling this powerless, and memory suddenly sparked. "D' you remember?" he said abruptly. "That night in Austin, after the Kennedy job? Me and Phil had been teasing you all week about how you get out of the heavy lifting. That night you kissed me and pushed me down onto the bed and pulled out the handcuffs we'd got from that detective and cuffed me to the headboard, and you said -

- "_Tonight _you're _going to lie back and _I'm _going to do all the hard work." Danny's eyes were dark and intense._

_He grinned and obligingly lifted his head so Danny could slide the pillow into place. "You think I'm hard work?" _

"_Definitely worth it," Danny assured him fervently, pressing kisses down his chest..._

_...And then later, after he came for the thirdfourth time, lost in incoherent pleasure, Danny looked down at him, mouth curved in amusement. "I love making you lose control like that," he said, voice smouldering, and he pushed forwards again and - _

He shook off the memory with difficulty, shuddering at the sensememory dancing across his skin. He looked at Danny in horror. "Is that...?"

No. He shook his head. No, he was letting how he felt now colour the past. He'd enjoyed that. He'd _wanted _that. And if he hadn't, if he'd been unsure, even for a second, even if he hadn't said a word - "You'd have stopped," he said with certainty. "You'd have stopped if I didn't want to."

And still that didn't answer everything. "But is that what you want?" he asked, soft and troubled. "Deep down. Do you _want _me to submit to you, Danny?"

Danny didn't answer. Not even in his head. And maybe that was because the question didn't deserve it. Because he knew it would never even have occurred to him before. Now, he remembered the handcuffs, and he remembered choosing to swallow, and he remembered that Danny was almost always on top, and he wondered if maybe they were both missing something.

Having someone else inside him had never felt like submission to him. Giving blowjobs, being penetrated...it hadn't made him feel like he was any less than any partner he'd ever had. It was about mutual pleasure, simple as that. But that was him, and he'd had time and experience to figure these things out. Danny...up until now, Danny had been strictly heterosexual and all he had was this one relationship and everything society said. Was he really so sure how things looked through Danny's eyes? Danny was a natural leader, used to being in control, and in their working relationship they'd always been equals. Maybe – unconsciously, of course unconsciously – Danny wanted to exert a little dominance in their personal relationship.

(_"His friend, his partner, an easy set of holes at the end of the day," Hans murmured in his head, and he shuddered._)

Finally, he reached out and took Danny's hand, only hesitating very slightly. "Sorry," he said, his voice cracking and he meant for everything, everything.

"Rus'."

For a moment, he forgot how to breathe. Danny's eyes were open and he looked around for a long moment before finally his gaze settled on Rusty. "Rus'," he whispered again, and he almost seemed to smile.

Then he opened his mouth and screamed.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thanks for reading, please review**


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